South Park Institute for Mental Health
by rosegirl220
Summary: Butters Stotch is in a Insane Asylum for a crime he doesn't even remember committing, and on top of crippling confusion of his situation, he must now also learn to live along side the others in the asylum. Based of an AU me and my friends made. Contains: Style, Damophe, and hits of Bunny/Bratters, and many other couples in later chapters. Rated T for safety - for now.
1. Arrival

"We're here, prisoner."

The sudden voice makes the blond's head look up from the bus floor, and he sees that the bus was quickly heading toward a red-bricked building that laid just on the horizon.

Said blonde's name was Butters Stotch, and at the moment, he was feeling anxiety nip at the very core of his soul.

Not only had this been the first time he'd ever been in actual trouble where the law had to get involved, but the most confusing part for him personally was that he had no recollection of committing the crime that everyone seemed to be accusing him of doing. Even despite this, Butters said little to nothing in his own defense; mostly due to the fact there was really no evidence that would prove he was innocent and telling the truth about it. Plus, he just was never the type of person to rock the boat or complain about how things worked out, and the blonde had a feeling that, for this particular situation, keeping quiet was the best option for him. However, for some odd reason, no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, he felt like all of this was a mistake. Like he shouldn't be the one in trouble at all, and that the real culprit was still roaming free.

Butters wanted to believe these notions to be true...but the answers he so desperately wanted were just out of his mental reach.

It was then that bus came to a slow stop in front of the red-bricked building Butters had spotted earlier, and from its entrance, two figures in unidentifiable uniforms began to approach the bus. The blonde tried to get better look at the two, but was then brought to his feet by the police on board before he got the chance. The officer then escorted him down the isles of seats (which was more of a forceful drag), and once they were at the door, the two figures in uniforms were seeing waiting for them just on the other side.

The smudged doors of the vehicle then swung open and it was then that Butters got his first clear view of the two strangers.

Both of their uniforms were a beige color that nearly blended in with their pale skin, and the blue patches that were sewn onto their sleeves read: "South Park Institute for Mental Health" in bold, red letters. As for the guards themselves; Butters took notice that, while both shared the same raven-black hair and looked somewhere in their mid to late twenties, the guard on the left was not only shorter, but had a more rounded, almost child-like facial structure than the man standing next to him on his right.

He briefly wondered if they could be related, but was interrupted by the police officer who brought him to the door forcibly leading him down the bus steps.

"Here's your new patient: Leopold Butters Stotch." The officer says in a monotone voice once they step onto the ground. The taller then takes a key from his pocket, and in one continuous motion, unlocked the handcuffs on Butters wrists before addressing the two security guards. "He's court ordered to be monitored at all times when not in his cell. This means that-"

"No disrespect officer," The taller guard suddenly interjects as he steps forward to gently take Butters right arm while the shorter stepped on to take his left. "But I've already been informed of the procedures, and proper accommodations have been made. I was the one you told them to over the phone yesterday, actually, so thank you for transporting him here promptly. We can take him from here."

The officer seemed a bit caught off by this, but nodded in response nonetheless.

After the man had retreated to the bus and it began to roll off down the road, the taller let out a scoff. "That guy's unbelievable. Always talking to me like I don't know how to do my job." The raven haired male just shook his head before he and the shorter guard turned with the other still in their grasp, and began to walk Butters up the stretch of concrete that lead to the buildings entrance. Silence then fell over the group, and it wasn't until they were half-way to the door that the tall continued speaking. "You know Butters… I think you're the first patient I actually walked in here."

"...I am?" Butter asks in confusion; it being the first time he spoke during his whole trip there.

"All he means is that you're the first one whose been able to physically move their legs to get to the door when first arriving here." The shorter explained. "Usually the criminally insane patients that are sent here are too drugged up to even form a coherent sentence; let alone walk."

"I see." The blonde mutters out. "But… what did you mean by the criminally insane part?"

"Well, the fact of the matter is, South Park simply isn't that big of a place." The taller replies. "That means they don't have a lot of funding to pay for places like this; let alone get two buildings that are for, in the mayor's opinion, the same basic thing. So, because of this, we get both criminally insane as well as those who are just a bit...well, for lack of a better term, mentally unstable."

"But… wouldn't that be dangerous?"

"Maybe, but we seem to be keeping things under control so far." The taller says with a slight shrug of his broad shoulders. He then took a short pause before saying, "Oh, and by the way, I have to give you this Institution-required speech when we get to your room, so please bare with me on that."

Butters merely nods at this, and moments after he does, they reach the entrance.

The automatic doors swing open, and when the three enter, the blonde is momentarily blinded by a sea of sterile, shining white.

Once his vision adjusts, he saw that, indeed, the entire entrance area of the Institution was snow-like white. Everything from the walls to the tiled floor was this color with no deviation. That is, of course, excluding the brown-colored secretaries desk that sat in the middle of the room like the first stroke of paint on a blank canvas - no one actually sitting there at the moment, however.

The blonde briefly wondered how people could stand such intense whiteness for twenty-four hours a day, everyday.

The two guards then escort the blonde through the, what he presumed to be, check-in area, and lead him through oak double-doors that were partially hidden behind the front desk. On the other side of them was a long, white colored hallway with multiple doorways on each side. The two then walk Butters halfway down the hall before coming to a cross-point; a left-sided doorframe having a red painted square on the top of it and a right-sided doorframe with a blue painted square on the top of it.

The guards lead the blonde through the doorframe with the red square.

Past the door, Butters sees a grey hallway with rooms lining both sides. Each of the doors seemed to be made of heavy metal, and lacked a window to view inside. Of course, wasn't until the third or fourth (the blonde honestly wasn't keeping that good a count of the numbers) door to their right that they stopped, and when they did, the taller guard pulls out a key before opening up the door.

The inside was a muted, grey color with no windows, and a single bed that sat in the right corner with one green sheet plus a set of light-green clothes set on it.

"This is your room." The taller said. "Step inside, and face us."

The blonde quickly does as he says, and once he had turned to face the two once more, the taller begins the speech he had briefly mentioned earlier.

"Butters, let me be the first to welcome you to South Park's Institute of Mental Health. I am officer Stanley Marsh, and this is my fell day-hours officer, Kevin Stooley." Stan says as he gestures over to the shorter. "We are here to not only keep you safe, but to keep all residents here safe as well. This means that if you try to harm yourself or anyone else, we will be forced to take action. First offense is a twenty-four hour lockdown in your room, next is a week of solitary confinement in the padded cell at the end of the hall with a straight jacket, and lastly, your third leads to an automatic discharge from our facility - which, since your court ordered to be here, would mean you'd be sent off to prison. However, if you follow the rules we have in place here, they'll be nothing to fear. As for your clothing, you'll be required to change into the patient uniform on the bed behind you, and hand over all and any personal possessions to us."

Kevin then waited for just a moment to make sure Stan didn't have anything else to add, and then speaks as well. "You'll also be seeing the therapist here for a second evaluation this evening. But before we go notify him you're here, we're requiring you remove your shoelaces, any belts on your person, and all other items that could be used to inflict self harm."

Butters was about to ask why this was, but the meaning what Kevin said finally registered in his brain, and he did what he said without question.

After a few moments, the blonde had slipped out his shoelaces, and taken off his belt as instructed. He then obediently hands them over to the waiting guards, and they give a slight nod once they take them before exiting his room - the door shutting and locking automatically with a noticeable click. Once they left, blonde then lets out a heavy sigh before trudging over to his bed, and changes into the clothes waiting for him.

The garments themselves reminded him faintly of scrubs for a doctor or nurse, and the shoes they provided looked strikingly similar to ordinary house-slippers.

Once he had them on, however, they proved to be quite uncomfortable.

While the material looked silky, the fabric actually turned out to be very rough, and the shoes fit uncomfortably tight on the his feet. Although, the blonde subconsciously knew there'd be no point in complaining about having to wear the uniform, so he just sat down on the edge of the bed and folded up his street clothes before placing them on his lap with his shoes on top of them.

Silence then began to invade the small space, but before it could really start to mess with the blonde's thoughts, Stan and Kevin were once again opening up his door.

"Alright Butters, the doctor's ready for you." Stan informed.

The blonde nods and quickly stands before the two waiting guards take him gently by the arms - Stan taking the items in Butters hands and holding them to his side as they walked. The three head out of the room, walk back into the hall they had come down to get to the blonde's room, and continue down the opposite direction of the front area.

It was at the end that they come to another cross-section of the hall, but this time, Stand and Kevin turn left; the three coming face-to-face with another oak door.

"Inside is where you'll be having your second assessment." Kevin explains. "You will be going in alone for doctor-patient confidentiality reasons, but make no mistake. we'll both be right out here in case something goes wrong." Butters couldn't help but guess that was code for "in case you snap", but decided not to call him on it because he was certain of the answer.

The blond then walks over to the door, and ignores the stares from Kevin and Stan as he slowly reaches out to the doorknob and turning it.

The room Butters saw was, thankfully, not painted that blinding white like most of the building was.

It's walls were, instead, painted a muted tan color, and was accented rather nicely with a light-red carpet. As for the furniture, there was a desk with tons of books and other miscellaneous items stacked on it in the back corner, and in the foreground of the room were two identical padded chairs - one of which held a redheaded man, who looked to be either in his late teens or early twenties, as he looked over charts on a clipboard.

Butters stays in the doorway, wondering if he should make some small noise to have his presence known to the other, but finds it unnecessary when the other suddenly looks up and notices him.

"Ah, you must be our new patient; Butters Stotch." The redhead says with a polite smile as the blonde continues to linger uncomfortably outside the room. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Dr. Kyle Broflovski, one of the leading therapists here. Please, come in, shut the door, and have a seat in the chair next to mine."

Butters quickly does as he's told, and once he's seated, Kyle speaks once more.

"So, I see here on your chart that you were able to be sent here without having to be sedated first." The redhead observes as he briefly glancig to the chart in his hands before focusing his green eyes on Butters. "That must've been nice; to be brought here while still coherent."

"I-It was, sir." The blonde says just above a whisper, looking down submissively.

Kyle smiles slightly at this before saying, "Y'know Butters, you don't have to be so nervous around me. I'm here to provide a safe, comfortable environment for patients to heal in. Now, I am going to ask a few questions to determine if you're eligible to participate in our next group therapy session, so please, feel free to make yourself comfortable and we'll start whenever you're." The redhead then gives a short pause as Butters shifts slightly in his seat, and after a moment, gives a nod to indicate it was time. Kyle simply nods back, and positions his pin on the paper. "Alright, let's start get started. Do you know your full, legal name? If so, please state it in it's entirety."

"Yes, and it's Leopold Butters Stotch."

Kyle then quickly scribbles something down on the paper clipped to his clipboard before heading into the next question. The next few minutes were then spent with Butters answering simple questions, like "Do you remember your date of birth?" and "Have you ever been in a facility like this before?". It was all relatively painless, but then as time went on, the redhead suddenly goes into a more complicated area of questions for the other.

"Do you recall the events that lead to your being here?" Kyle asks.

The blonde hesitates a moment, and after several minutes of serious consideration, gives his answer. "...I-I truly don't, doctor."

Interest arose in Kyle's green eyes, and Butters knew the session was about to take a drastic turn. "Do you perhaps recall any related events that could help lead your memory to the event in question?"

"I'm afraid not, sir."

"Interesting." Kyle says as he leans forward slightly with his hands folded. "Then our goal is to find out what exactly is blocking those memories." The redhead takes a short pause before asking; "Have you simply not come to terms with what you've done mentally, perhaps?"

"To be honest...I-I just have no idea." Butters admits. "That whole day's kind of a blank, actually. I-I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize." Kyle reassures. "So, if I understand correctly, you can't remember anything from the day you were arrested?"

"No, no, I can remember that part of it just fine." The blonde explains. "But...I just can't remember doing what I was accused of..."

"I see." Kyle says as he quickly jots down this newly acquired information. "Well, believe it or not, that's actually common. I often find the best solution for this type of selective amnesia is to talk about what one does remember out loud; sort of as a way to kick-start memory. So please, if you're okay with it, tell me all of what you can recall, and feel free to stop at your choosing."

The blonde nods in conformation, and takes a lengthy pause before taking in a deep breath and starting his story. "Well...the first thing I remember about that day is waking up spread out on the ground of my apartment floor." Butters explains; his voice growing slightly softer and softer as the memory of what transpired played in his mind. "I-I remember having this splitting headache the more I came into consciousness, and it would only get worse every time I tried to get up. Of course, when I finally did manage to get on my feet after what seemed like years, I noticed two things: I was covered in what I later discovered was blood, and that I was clutching a baseball bat which had a coated of the same red substance. Although, before I had any real time to process what was going on, these policemen suddenly kicked in my door, and slapped handcuffs on me - saying I was under arrest for...for murder."

"Murder?" Kyle asks; looking slightly surprised that it had been the others answer. "That's a pretty serious accusation. If you don't mind me asking, did they tell you who it was or why you would have done it?"

"It's fine, a-and they did tell me who it was, but left it at that." Butters explains as he fingers begin to fidget slightly due to his mental stress. "The person who they say I had murdered was….was..." The blonde then felt a sharp spike of anxiety take hold over him, and he was forced to take a couple of deep breaths in order to calm himself. The shorter then closed his eyes tight once his composure was regained, and clenched his fists before saying the words that he hadn't dared utter since arrest. "...m-my mother."

Several minutes of silence pass after those words left Butters mouth, and while Kyle's expression held no judgment, the blonde was almost positive the other thought he was now a horrible, unruly person.

"...I-I…..I don't even remember doing it. I-I honestly don't" Butters admits; tear suddenly forming in his baby-blue eyes. "The last time I remember speaking with her, s-she and my father were coming home from their vacation somewhere in Chicago, and just the thought…that I had hurt her…." The blonde was then cut off by a sudden catch in his throat, and he quickly clears it before saying through now falling tears, "S-Sorry I'm cryin' like this...I-I know I'm supposed to be talkin'...

"It's fine, Butters, really." Kyle responds; his expression and voice being as professional as he can make them. "This kind of reaction is good. Raw emotions like the one you're feeling sometimes help to unlock stored away memories, and allow you to recall previously repressed events. Oh, and I have some tissues on my desk if you are in need of them."

"Thanks, but...I-I'm fine. Honestly." Butters says as he wipes tears that had slipped out onto his cheeks; waiting till his sobbing came to a stop before he spoke again. "As for the rest of my story…there's really nothing much else to tell. I was taken to court with my case, my lawyer argued I was unqualified for jail because I must have some sort of mental illness not to recall doing such a horrific act, and the judge sentenced me to come here until my illness had been discovered and properly treated. And..that's pretty much it."

"You're absolutely sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"Alright then." Kyle says as he writes down the last of the information Butters had given him before looking back up at him. "Thank you, Butters, for finding the strength to share that with me. And while I'm still required to do some reviews of these notes I took, I believe you'll be eligible for our next session of group therapy."

"R-Really?" The blonde asks in a bit of surprise. "W-Well...thank you so much, doctor."

"No problem." Kyle responds with a kind smile. "Now, if you'll just step outside, the guards will escort you back to your room."

The blonde then gives a nod, and stands before making his way to the door. When he steps back through, he sees that the guards had yet to move from the spot they had gotten into when the group had first arrived (although, he noticed Stan was no longer held the items he had handed over earlier, so he assumed that at least the taller had moved while he was talking to Kyle), and in seconds, had Butters by the arms once more.

"So, what'd Kyle say about you going to group therapy?" Stan casually asks as they begin the walk back to the others room.

"He said he still had to review some things, but I'd probably be able to attend the next group therapy session."

"Really?" Stan asks. "That next session is tomorrow afternoon, actually. I'm surprised Kyle passed you so quickly.

"Yeah; it's incredible, Butters." Kevin says with a wide smile. "Usually criminally insane patients don't get to go to group therapy when they first arrive here; let alone on their first day. You should be proud." These words makes Butters mouth curl upward into the smallest of smiles, and he was about to say something back to the two when Stan suddenly speaks up.

"Kenny, what are you doing out here? Don't you have a therapy session with Kyle today?"

The blonde then looks straight ahead, and in the middle of the hall, he sees a boy about his age with nearly lemon-yellow hair standing statue-still just mere feet from where the three were. Of course, the thing that drew the most attention was dark-rimmed, emotionless sea-blue eyes that seemed to just peer into the very soul of the person or thing they looked at. And in this case, that person happened to be Butters.

The shorter felt a chill run up his spine as the other continually stared silently in his direction, but did his best to ignore it.

"Um...h-hi there." Butters speaks up sheepishly. "My name is Butters, and I-I'm sort of the new guy. It's nice to meet you...Kenny, was it?"

The blonde waited for the other to respond, but got none from the other.

Just the same blank, frozen-seeming stare.

"Don't feel bad, Butters, he's always like this." Stan speaks up. "I'm not entirely sure of all the details, but all I do know is that he normally refuses to talk to anyone but the therapists here. The rest of us just get a blank stare." The guard then paused for a brief moment, as if remembering something, before looking to the shorter black-haired male beside Butters. "Kevin, take Butters back to his room. I need to get Kenny down to Kyle's office for his session before he's late." The raven-haired male then walks over to the lingering other, and puts a calming hand on his shoulder.

The other then began to talk in a calming tone to the other, but before Butters could really make-out what Stan was saying, him and Kevin had stepped through the red-squared doorway.

"...do you think he'll be okay? The boy who just stared at me, I mean."

"Kenny?" Kevin asked as he walked the other toward the hall. "Oh, I'm sure he'll get better eventually. After all, that's why people like Kyle are here; to help him get better. I wouldn't let it worry you too much."

The blonde wanted to ask more, like what exactly what Kenny's condition was, but by the time he finally decided he was going to ask, they had arrived back at his cell. Kevin then unlocked and opened the door, and Butters obediently goes in - the door closing behind him with the same click as soon as he had fully entered.

It was at that moment the true gravity of his situation hit Butters.

He was now truly alone; with nothing but his thoughts till sunrise.p

Seeing as how he didn't even have a window to stare out of, Butters then decides the best option was to just get some rest. So, he then trudges over to his bed, and curls up under the thin sheet before closing his eyes - letting the remainder of the unfallen tears from his earlier emotional break-down run freely down his cheeks as his unsettled mind slowly begins to wander off into the hazy world of sleep.

-Meanwhile-

"Hey Kyle, I found Kenny roaming the halls again. I remembered you had an appointment with him today, and so I just figured I'd bring him straight here."

"Thank you very much, Stan." Kyle says; a wide smile coming onto his pale face. "I was wondering where he went off to" The redhead then looks over to the blonde before saying, "Kenny, just take a seat in the chair next to mine, and I'll be right there. I just need to have a quick chat with Stan here in the hall, and then we'll start our session."

The blonde quietly obliged, and the two males left for the hallway.

"Something wrong Kyle?" Stan questions as the redhead shuts the door to his office.

"No, no, everything's fine.' Kyle reassures. "It's just…..well, I wanted to know what you thought of the new patient, Butters." "He seemed fine." "Well...I guess what I'm trying to ask is...did he seem...like all the other patients here?"

The taller finally realized what the redhead meant, and took a short pause before answering. "...to be honest, no. He actually seemed to be the exact opposite of them."

"So it wasn't just me." Kyle says; sounding a bit relieved. "Good. For a minute there, I was a bit worried I'd be the only one who saw it."

"Saw what?"

"The fact that there's seemingly nothing wrong with him."

Stan raises an eyebrow in question. "What are you getting at, Kyle?"

The redhead then stays quiet for a few minutes before finally responding, "I hate to admit it, but...I have a strong feeling like there could have been huge a mix-up of some sort. I've been in this field for awhile now, and something about this doesn't sit right with me. Of course, none of my suspicions can be confirmed till the police fax over Butters more detailed chart. But until then, I'm keeping a very close eye on him. Oh, and would you mind telling me if you notice anything different or out of the ordinary in Butters' behavior?"

"Of course, dude." Stan reassures. "Just… promise me you won't do anything that'll get you into too much trouble, okay?"

"Well, seeing as how I look for trouble daily, that'll be pretty difficult. But for you, I'll try."

Kyle's sarcastic comment was then followed by two giving each other small smiles before going their separate ways; Stan heading back to see if Kevin had any trouble taking Butters to his room and Kyle going into his office for his session with Kenny.


	2. Group Therapy: Session 1

Darkness.

It was the first thing Butters saw when his eyes opened that next morning.

It actually took a moment for him to remember exactly where he was and why, but when he did, he let out a low sigh. Not only did the memory of his situation bring his mood down considerable, but the room itself was actually beginning to mess with him mentally. The lack of any type of windows in the room was beginning already beginning to mess with his sense of time, and the blonde had a nasty feeling that it wouldn't be long before his sense of time diminished completely.

The mere thought made Butters feel a strong sense of helplessness...but he knew it was something that simply couldn't be changed.

So, to get his mind off the topic, the blonde decides to just continue lying on his back, and gazing up aimlessly at the black space above him. Of course, as his eyes adjusted, Butters slowly began to see more and more of what was in the darkness, and soon, the grey ceiling became clear as day. He then lies there for what seems like millennia as he began to hone in on every single imperfection in the ceiling above him; such as some spots where the paint had began to crack or chip or areas where slight cracks had began to form. Eventually, Butters mind becomes eased from its earlier anxieties, and slowly, he was lulled into a light sleep.

The room became so quiet and content, in fact, that the sudden sound of the cell door being unlocked made the blonde shoot straight up into a sitting position in surprise.

"Good morning Butters." Stan greets as he swings the door to the blondes room open.

Once Butters realizes it was only the dark-haired security guard, he calms down, and props himself up on one arm before using his free one to rub the sleep from his eyes.

"Morning..." The blonde replies groggily. He then momentarily why Stan of all people would give him such a friendly greeting, seeing as how he was a convicted criminal in this facility, but was sidetracked when he too notice of a tray in the tallers hands. On it were a small serving of scrambled eggs, a two pieces slightly burnt looking toast, and a small Styrofoam cup of what Butters assumes is orange juice - as well a plastic spork to the side of the cup. The smell and sight of the food drew a noticeable rumble from Butters stomach at the sight of the food, and it occurred to him that he hadn't really eaten anything that previous day.

After a moment of silence, the blonde finally speaks up with a cautious sounding question. "Is…is that for me?"

"Of course." Stan reassures as he gives the other a small smile. "We're not monsters here, Butters. We serve all our patients here three square meals a day, and no one is of exception."

"Oh." Butters mumbles out. More silence then fell between the two, and it was a good two minutes before the blonde broke it once he realizes something. "Wait...so do all inmates eat in their cells then?"

"Huh? No, there's a cafeteria." Stan explains. "It's just Institution regulation that we keep criminally insane patients isolated for a couple of days until it's determined they're not a danger to themselves or others."

"I see..."

"Yeah, but it's just temporary; I promise." The taller reassures. Butters merely gives a nod of understanding back to the other before hopping out of bed. He then crosses over to the waiting security guard, and gingerly takes the tray from his him.

"Thanks." Butters says quietly.

"It's no problem." Stan replies. "Now, it will be another hour until the therapist who'll be handling your one-on-one therapy session arrives, so until then, you'll be waiting here. I'll be back just as soon as the doctor arrives, and will escort you directly to them. Is this all okay?"

The blonde then gives a simple nod as a reply, and when he does this, Stan gives a nod back before leaving without another word.

Soon after the taller left, Butters then heads back to the bed, and sits on its side before he turns his attention to the tray of food on his lap. Another deep growl comes from his stomach, and it encouraged him to dig in. He then grabbed the plastic spork, and wastes no time devouring the eggs. After they were gone, the blonde then periodically begins eating his toast as well as taking occasionally sips of the juice, and in just a short while, he had finished off the last of his breakfast.

He admitted it wasn't the best meal he'd ever had, but a part of his was just overwhelmingly thankful they even fed him at all; especially considering what he had been accused of doing.

Butters then puts the empty tray at the end of the bed, and quickly stands to pull the sheet over the pillow; sort of as his way of "making" the bed. Once this is done, the blonde then gets back on the bed, and sits crossed-legged in front of the tray as he waits for Stan's return. As he continued to sit there, time seemed to drag itself out, and occasionally, Butters would find himself absent mindedly fiddling with the tray in front of him out of boredom. Finally, after what felt like hours, the sound of the door being unlocked was heard once again, and in seconds, Stan was stepping into the room.

"Okay Butters, the therapist has arrived, and is ready for your session." Stan explains. "Just leave your tray from breakfast here, and the people who search you room for contraband will take care of it."

A sense of unease comes over the blonde at the knowledge of strangers poking around in his room while he was away, but after reminding himself that this technically more of a cell than a room and that he had nothing in it to hide, the feeling went away.

The two then promptly made their way down the halls of the Institution, and soon, Butters found himself staring at the door he had entered yesterday when going to see Kyle. Confusion then comes over his face, but before he could ask any questions, the guard beside him spoke up.

"This is where you'll be going for your one-on-one therapy sessions from now on." Stan explains. "The doctor is waiting for you inside."

Butters couldn't help but still feel slightly confused at this, but goes inside nonetheless. Inside, nothing about the room had changed, but only this time, a female with straight, cascading black hair who looked to be around Stan's age was sitting in the chair Kyle had been in that previous day.

And, unlike Kyle, the girls seems to take notice of the blondes presence almost immediately.

"Hello Butters." The women says with a warm smile as the other slowly walks into the room. "I'm Doctor Pattie Nelson - the one-one patient therapist here. Please, shut the door, and come have a seat next to me."

The blonde wasted no time obligating, and once he was seated, spoke up.

"Um, Miss… I guess I'm a bit confused." Butters says. "Isn't this Kyle's office? I-I just mean, this is the room I talked to him in the other day, so I assumed it was his..."

"Oh, that's only because this room is devoted solely for one-on-one sessions with patients." Pattie explains. "So, I guess in a way me and Kyle do share this room, but mostly, he can be found in group therapy room just across the hall."

"Oh...okay then. I guess that makes sense." Butters says. "Thanks for letting my know."

"Anytime." Pattie says warmly. "Now, let's begin, shall we?"

The raven-haired women then readies the pen in her hand, and during the next hour, asks Butters a multitude of questions. Of course, the things she asked weren't like the things the redhead had questioned him on the day before. No, these questions were covering more broad topics; such as: "How are you feeling?", "Have you had any outbursts of violence recently?", and things of that nature.

It was admittedly tedious, but the blonde figured it was better than answering question that would lead to him having another emotional breakdown.

"Alright Butters, that just about wraps up this session for today." Pattie stares as she finished jotting down the last thing Butters had told her; clicking her pen so the point was no longer out. "As of now, I don't detect any rational reason to start putting you on any medication. However, I do want to see you everyday for at least two weeks to just keep an eye on your mental state. But don't worry, after they pass, you'll be out on a more spread out schedule for sessions or just when you need someone to talk to."

"Oh...okay." Butters mumbles out. He was honestly a bit shocked to hear he didn't need to be put on medication, and despite this, decides it's best not to question the doctors verdict. "Thank you, ma'am."

Pattie just smiles at this. "No problem, Butters. You're no free to leave if you wish." The blonde then gives a slight nod of understanding at this, and stands before making his way toward the exit without another word.

"Hey." Stan casually says as Butters steps into the hall. The taller then crosses over, and takes Butters lightly by the arm before beginning to walk down the hall. A few minutes pass in silence, but about halfway back to the blonde's sell, the taller continues speaking. "So, how'd your one-on-one session with Pattie go?"

"It was fine." Butters answers. "Although...I am a bit confused." "Hm? About what?" "Well...it's nothing major." Butters reassures. "It's just...she actually said she saw no need for me to have medication at this time."

"Really?" Stan asks; his tone giving off slight surprise. Butters then confirms with a nod, and the other goes silent for a few moments. "Interesting. That certainly is a first for a new arrival here."

The blonde couldn't help but note a certain tone in Stan's voice when he says this, but before he could call the raven-haired man on it, they arrived back at his cell. The taller then unlocks it, and turns to look at the other.

"Here we are." Stan states. "You will be spending the majority of the day in here for holding. I'll be bringing your dinner by at about five-thirty, and after, will be taking you to your first group therapy session. Is this okay with you?"

"Yes sir."

"Okay then. Please step inside."

The shorter obliges, and once inside, heads right for the now tray-less cot. Behind him, he heard the door locking him in, but paid it no mind. Instead, he choose to sit on the edge of his cot, and lets his mind wander through random topics to pass the time. Mostly, the thing he thought about held no real significance, but there was one thought that seemed to attract nearly all of his attention. Why had Stan's tone changed once he mentioned Pattie hadn't put him on any medications? The question, while simple, actually managed to bring several related questions to mind. Did Stan perhaps know something he was missing? Was it taboo not to be put on medication during your first weeks at the Institute? Or did Stan just believe he actually needed drugs?

The thoughts continued to swirl around Butters brain, and as he tried to come up with rational answers, he inwardly admitted that what he was occupying his mind with was a bit unnecessary, pointless even. Although, the truth be told; when you have the knowledge that you're going to spend the better portion of your day in a dark, locked room with nothing to do but sleep or absent mindedly stare at the wall, any distraction to make the time go faster for yourself is welcome.

-Later-

"Alright Butters, it's time to go to group. You ready?"

Butters nods at this before quietly saying, "Yes I am, sir."

The blonde then slides off the bed, and once to his feel, and quickly crosses over to where Stan was waiting. The two then walk through the familiar path towards the therapy room, but when they arrive, they turn to the left at the intersection of the doors instead of the right, and end up in front of a set of double oak doors.

"This is the group therapy room." Stan explains. "You'll be spending two hours here every other day to talk out your inner feelings with other inmates, and after, be brought directly back to your room. Is this understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Then please, head inside."

The blonde then silently heads over to the double oak doors, and with a slight turn of the knob, heads through the white doorway.

Once inside, he saw that the room was substantially bigger than any he'd been in so far at the Institution.

It's walls were painted a dark forest green, and was accented with a plush looking dark brown carpet; giving the space a very natural, non-threatening feeling to it. As for its furniture, an assortment of chairs (some of which had a few patients already sitting in them) that were put into a U shape in the very middle of the room with one at its center - which is presumably where Kyle would be sitting during the session. And lastly, in the very left-hand corner, Kyle was sitting at a brown desk as he wrote away on a piece of paper in front of him.

And as the blonde took the scenery in, he had to admit that it was refreshing to see something this cheery in a building made mostly of blinding whites and depressing grays.

"Ah, Butters, there you are." Kyle says with a small smile once he looks up and spots the blonde entering the doorway. "I was wondering when you'd be brought here. Please, sit in any of the remaining empty seats, and relax. We're still waiting on one more person to join us, so it'll be just a few more minutes before we can start."

The blonde nods in understanding, and looks more in-detail at the selection of vacant chairs to choose from.

The first available seat he saw was at the left end of the "U" shape in-between a girl with silver-dyed hair and almost translucent-pale skin, and a boy with jet-black hair that that swooped down over his face to cover his left eye. A slight feeling of intimidation overcame Butters at the twos appearance, and he decides to survey his other options in hopes there might be one by itself. The only other vacant seat he sees, however, was in-between this boy with tangled blonde hair and, to his surprise, Kenny.

It only took the blonde a few seconds before deciding to go with the latter choice.

"Um…i-it's okay I sit here, right?" Butters asks the two a bit awkwardly once he approaches the shorter; not wanting to get on the bad side of his fellow patients on his mere second day. "I-I'm new, so I have no clue is someone has claim on this seat."

"N-No...it's fine." The boy with the tangled mess of blonde hair says with a slight stutter. Kenny, on the other hand, remains silent, so the blonde takes this as a go-ahead to sit down. "T-Thanks." Butters says; trying to keep his voice steady but his nerves shaking it. "It's no problem." The other says almost dissmisively. The three then sit there in silence before the shorter to Butters right speaks up. "So, y-you said you're new here, right? A-Are you that guy they brought in yesterday?"

"Yeah, that's me." The taller of the two replies. He then pauses slightly before politely extending his hand toward the other. "My name's Butters, by the way."

The other looked at the extend hand for several moments, as if assessing any possible dangers, before hesitantly reaching out and taking ahold of it. "I-I'm Tweek. I-It's nice to meet you, Butters."

The taller of the two smiles, and feels a bit of relief that at least one person in the room seemed to be friendly. Before anything else is said, Butters hears something that catches him by surprise.

"Hi Butters."

The small, whisper-like voice went almost unnoticed by him.

The blonde then looks around, but sees no one looking in his direction. That is, of course, until he suddenly meets Kenny's eyes; which seemed to be transfixed on him. Butters momentarily wondered if he could have been the one that had spoken to him earlier, but after several minutes pass in silence of the two just staring at each other, he dismisses it before looking forward once more.

Butters swore he heard a soft, sad sigh from Kenny's direction when he did this, but figured it was simply his mind playing tricks on him again.

"Ah, Bradley, welcome." Kyle suddenly speaks up; getting Butters attention. "It's nice to have you here with us today."

The blonde then looked behind in curiosity, and at the door he had entered from earlier was a boy about his age with a head of curly, dirty-blonde hair. Like most of the other patients here, Butters noticed that he had dark circles around his eyes - whether it was from lack of sleep or due to something completely unrelated was still a mystery to the blonde.

"Please, take that open seat over there, and we can begin." Kyle says before taking a seat in the chair that was the center of the U shape.

Bradley did as he was told, and the whole time, his gaze was settled to the floor.

Butters briefly wondered if he was okay, but didn't have too long to think about it before the redheaded psychiatrist began talking again.

"Okay, now what we're all here, I'll be needing someone to start off our group sharing today." Kyle explains; readying the pen in his hand to start writing on the clipboard he'd settled on his lap. "I figured, since we have a new face joining our group; it'd be appropriate to begin with a little background on each other. That being said, would anyone like to volunteer to share their story with us?"

Kyle's words were met with anything but enthusiasm, but eventually, the girl's pale hand on the end went into the air.

"Thank you, Bloodrayne." Kyle says with a small smile. "Please, begin whenever you're ready."

"It's no problem." Bloodrayne reassures with a slight grin. "Anyway, I was sent here because my friend and family think I have some sort of delusion that I'm a vampire, when really, they're just the ones who refuse to believe the truth." She then pause for a few minutes before speaking once more. "As for when it all started, I guess that have to be about two years back; when I was still human. It was back when me and all my friends started getting into all the vampire-related shows on TV, and I just remember really wanting to become one…"

"You sure you don't wanna come with us to the mall, Bloodrayne?"

"I am, Larry." Bloodrayne reassures her friend on the other line as she begins to file down her nails. "I'm just comfortable staying in today, and watching some horror movies. But I'll join you guys the next time, I promise."

"'Kay then." Larry simply replies, his tone showing some obvious disappointment. "Have fun."

"I will." The silver haired girl says. "See ya tomorrow"

"See ya."

The two then hung up, and Bloodrayne turned all her attention to the images playing on the TV. The current show playing was a cheesy, old-timey vampire movie. The graphics weren't anything truly astonishing, but as she continued watching, Bloodrayne felt a longing deep within in. A dark, twisted desire that had been building for years; to become one of the blood-sucking immortals. Not to hurt anyone, mind you, but just to be dark and mysterious like the creatures were; to feel moderately interesting for once.

Of course, she knew it was a totally unrealistic dream.

With a heavy sigh, Bloodrayne then went on with filing her nails to an acceptable smoothness - keeping her attention on the TV as she did so with a certain adoring fondness one might expect from a young child.

Although...as she continued to do this; her subconscious took hold.

Without even realizing it, she lifted the file to her mouth, and began shaping two of her front-teeth into fine-tipped fangs; not even wincing once during the process.

It would be hours later when she discovered her work; accidentally biting down on her lip and seeing a slight train of blood coming from her mouth. She immediately went to a mirror, and upon seeing the sharpened front teeth, an initial sense of confusion hit her. However, it would be seconds later when a strong, euphoric happiness took it's place. True, she had no idea as to who had transformed her, but it hardly mattered.

After all, this had been what she dreamed of ever since second grade. Who wouldn't have been happy?

Without another minute of hesitation, the silver haired girl licked up the remaining blood on her lip before taking off into the night to celebrate her newfound immortality.

"And ever since then, I've been a vampire." Bloodrayne concludes. "I'm still not entirely certain sure how I saw my reflection in the bathroom mirror or how blood still came from my lip, but I've concluded it to just my body adjusting to turning from human to vampire."

"Yes, but Bloodrayne, could it be possible that maybe you were the one to have sharpened your own teeth into those points?" Kyle politely interjects. "After all, you did say you had a nail file in your hand."

Bloodrayne took a long pause, as if considering this notion, before speaking again. "I had thought of this at one point, but no, I'm positive that couldn't have been how it happened. I could feel I had become different."

"I see." Kyle says before jotting down a quick note. "Sorry for interrupting; please, feel free to continue."

Bloodrayne gives a slight nod, pausing a moment before continuing, "To be honest, there's not much left of my story to be told after that. After I discovered I was immortal, I embraced my new lifestyle right away. I slept all through the days, prowled in moonlight, and refused to eat or drink any human substances. Sadly...I couldn't seem to bring myself to actually drain a living thing of it's blood, and slowly, the lack of feeding began to take it's toll on my body. That's when my friends and family started getting concerned..."

"Bloodrayne, please, listen to me! This mentality is destroying you! You need to go and get help before it's too late!"

"I've told you...I-I don't…need help..." Bloodrayne weakly explains to her concerned best friend.

Larry frowns at this, and gives a sad huff in reply. It had been a few weeks since his friend started acting like this, a "real" vampire. It was fun and games at first, seeing as how their group was collectively obsessed with the fanged creature of the night, but it was quickly replaced with concerned once her friends discovered Bloodrayne was going on weeks without eating or drinking. This refusal to consume even the tiniest morsel of food or water had caused her to drop weight at an alarming weight; so much so that her ribs had actually began to start showing through the skin on her sides. And, along with her physical state, her mental health also began to crumble, as her delusions were only strengthened by the lack of food and water.

Bloodrayne needed to get help soon, and Larry feared the worst if he couldn't break through to her.

"Hailey, please...you need to stop this." Larry begs; using Bloodrayne's real name to get across how serious this situation truly was. "You're parents are really getting worried about you, you know. The teachers at school are worried about you, our friends are worried about you, I'm worried about you! If not for yourself, then for the love of god, please get help for all the people that just want the best for you!"

"L-Larry…calm down. I-I'm a Vampire now…this is n-natural since I haven't drank any...any..."

The silver-haired girl's stuttering explanation suddenly begins to trail off, and without warning, her world was sent into a strong spiral. A surge of searing white flooded Bloodrayne's vision, and shortly after, faded into blackness.

The next time she'd open her eyes; Bloodrayne would find herself in a hospital bed with multiple IV's injected into her as Doctors and nurses moved all around her.

"A week after, the medical staff ran some tests to see if I was stable, and long story short, I ended up being sent here to treat my 'delusions' of vampirism." Bloodrayne concludes with a scoff. "I guess people just don't want to accept truth But it's fine, I should be let go once people realize their mistake."

Butters, who had been listening intently to the others story, was in a bit of shock.

There before him, a person that was around his own age, was completely convinced something false was true. The concept itself didn't get him worried, but…it got him thinking.

What if that's what was going on with him?

What if he really hadkilled his mom, and his brain was protecting him from a reality he didn't want to, or possibly even couldn't, face? That this sense of innocence was just a figment of his imagination? The mind was a complex, strange thing, and if it wanted to, the blonde figured, it could even do something as inconceivable as blocking out the memories of someone murdering the very person who had given them life.

Butters felt anxiety spike within him at the thought, but snaps himself out of it when he hears Kyle speaking.

"Alright, thank you for sharing Bloodrayne." Kyle says before giving his signature polite smile. He then turns his gaze to the rest of the group before continuing. "Now, would anyone else like to share today?" The redhead then waited in silence for several minutes, looking to each of the patients in hopes at least one more person would volunteer, but then sighs once he sees no results. "Very well. You all have the remaining two hours of this session to have free time while I go do some filing. I'll check back in with you all in an hour to see if anyone changed their minds about sharing, but in the meantime, remember that there are guards right outside. So don't do anything I wouldn't."

With that, Kyle leaves through the nearby door, and everyone breaks off.

Bloodrayne and the black-haired boy next to her go off to a dimly lit corner before talking quietly to each other. Bradley silently slinks over to the nearby window before taking a seat on the ledge. As for the remaining three, they all remain where they are seated.

Butters suddenly felt like he should at least try to socialize, seeing as how he was going to be here with these people for awhile.

"So...that was interesting." Butters says; turning to Kenny with a smile. "Bloodrayne's story, I mean. Hehe, I know it sounds silly, but I was wondering if she should actually suck people's blood with those fangs of hers. What do you think?"

The blue-eyed blonde just stared at the other, much like how he had yesterday when they had met, and after a minute of silence, stands. He then walks off to nearby corner, and leans against it before letting himself slowly slide down the floor. Meanwhile, the blonde watches the taller do this, and can't help but feel a bit anxious. Sure, from what little he knew about Kenny, this behavior was normal, but...he couldn't shake the feeling that, maybe, in some way, he had said something to offend him.

He decided to ask Tweek to get a clearer answer.

"Was it...was it something I said?" Butters meekly asks. "Did I upset him?"

"Who? K-Ken?" Tweek asks; looking up from the fixed spot he'd been staring at on the floor. "No, no, you're fine. H-He's always like that."

"Oh...okay. I figured as much, but I was just making sure." Butters then takes a short pause before asking, "Please don't think I'm being nosy by this, but...do you happen to know why? I-I'm just curious is all."

Tweek raises an eyebrow slightly at this, almost as if the concept of curiosity was somewhat foreign to him, and moves closer to the other before speaking. "Honestly...I-I did overhear Kyle talking about him to Stan one day when he was walking by my room. A-Apparently, he has this rare condition called Cotard Delusion, o-or something like that. It basically means he has himself c-convinced he had died, and is n-now a ghost roaming our world."

"So...that's why he doesn't talk to anyone? Because he thinks they can't see or hear him?" Butters asks; a sudden wave of sympathy for Kenny washing over him.

"Yeah." Tweek says. "W-Well, except for Kyle and Pattie, w-who have him convinced their m-mediums or something. B-But even then he normally doesn't speak to them u-unless they're having a one-on-one session."

"How sad." Butters says in genuine concern. "Do you know what caused him to be like this?"

"T-That's actually one thing I don't know." Tweek admits. "I imagine the only ones who know Kenny's story are his family, Pattie, and Kyle."

"Oh...alright then. I'll just let it go." Butters says. The blonde then suddenly feels Kenny's chilling stare from across the room, so to distract himself, he changed the subject. "So Tweek….it seems you know a lot about what goes around here."

"O-Oh, yeah, I do." Tweek reassures with a prideful smile. "I-I usually just stay in the background anyway, so I happen to o-overhear a lot of conversations."

"That's neat" Butters smile. He then took a short pause before asking, "Actually...if it's okay, would you mind telling about the others here? I-I just want to make sure to not accidentally insult someone. Don't wanna step on anyone's toes, ya know?"

"I understand. A-And sure, but you have to keep what I tell you secret."

Butters nods, and the messy-haired blonde went into explanation about the remaining people in the room he had no clue about.

The boy that was with Bloodrayne was named Pete, and was there to get treatment for Multiple Personality Disorder. The blonde admits to not knowing much past this, but found the other does have three confirmed alternate personalities - A man in his late twenties named Michael, a woman in her mid-twenties named Henrietta, and a Twelve year old kid named Firkle. Bradley, surprisingly enough, had actually been sent there on the same charges Butters had. According to what Tweek overheard, he had gone to some Christian Camp when he was ten after telling his parents he might have a romantic interesting for one of his same-sex classmates, and eight long years of attempted brainwashing later, finally snapped, and gruesomely murdered everyone in the area; counselors, campers, and even two bystanders included.

Butters was shocked at the news.

"He...he just killed everyone?"

"Yeah man, h-he's really dangerous when h-he's provoked." Tweek stutters out. "Usually h-he's kept in his cell like the others who aren't suited for group, b-but I guess Kyle finally okayed him for it this time. J-Just don't mention any type of religion around him, o-or it could get bloody."

"Don't need to tell me twice..." Butters mumbles. He then looks to the figure sitting in the window, and his mind can't even process the fact blood was on his hands. His face alone just looked so...sad. Broken, even, like the world has just kept kicking him down his whole life.

Like with Kenny, he felt a certain sympathy for Bradley.

The blonde then mentally reminds himself that, in a place like this, you could never judge a book by its cover. It was also shortly after this that it occurred to him that he'd yet to hear Tweek's own tale, and with admitted hesitation, he spoke up.

"Hey Tweek...you never mentioned why you're here." Butters points out. "Or do you not like talking about it?"

"H-Huh? Oh, no, I just forgot, I guess." Tweek says with a sheepish chuckle. The twitching blonde then took a moments pause before saying, "T-To be honest...I-I don't know why I'm here."

Butters nearly felt his heart stop. "You don't?"

"No." Tweek admits. "M-My parents just kinda sent me here after I told them about my b-boyfriend, Craig." The shorter then pauses before continuing, "I-I guess you can say it was to 'clear-up' my h-homosexuality, but beyond that, I'm totally at a loss for w-why I'm being kept here."

"That's awful." Butters says. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I am glad there's someone else who doesn't know why they're here. But...to be sent to a place like this all because of the person you love is wrong. I'm sorry you're parents are that close minded."

"A-Aw, they're not so bad." Tweek reassures. "They come and v-visit me on visitation days every once in awhile, and send me care packages on occasion. P-Plus, they're also paying rent on my apartment while I-I'm here so I'll still have a place to live when I'm released. They may be distant, but...I know they still love me." The other then takes another short pause before adding, "S-Speaking of families, a-are yours coming to visitation next week?"

"...my...my family?"

"Yeah, l-like your mom and dad and siblings." Tweek explains. "I-I just didn't know if they'll be visiting you s-so shortly after you arrived. I-If not, you can s-sit with me and Craig. I-I'm sure he won't mind the company."

Butters sit there in silence for several minutes.

It had never once crossed his mind that someone he knew would visit him while in the asylum. In all honesty, he had no knowledge of what happened to his father after he found out about his wife's tragic death, or if he even knew where his murdering son was. It was just one of those he just didn't want to think about, and as for the whole visitors issue, Butters was almost positive no one would bother coming to see scum like him.

Of course, he couldn't let Tweek know this. After all, hearing him talk about Bradley with such distain, he could only imagine how the other would speak of him if he'd ever learned then truth.

"...no….I don't think anyone will be showing up to see me." Butters replies. "But...thanks for saying I can sit with you and Craig. He sounds like a great guy."

"Oh, h-he is." Tweek gushes; seeming to forget any previous conversation. "Craig's protective, but a-at the same time, a total sweet-heart. H-He actually told me that the first thing he's gonna do for me once I get out of here i-is treat me to a nice dinner a-at my favorite restaurant. I-It's one of the things I'm really looking forward to, a-actually."

Butters smiles at the others gushing, but begins spacing out as the other continues.

It wasn't like he didn't wantto listen to Tweek talk, but...he just had a lot of questions about his father on his mind. So much so that he found focusing on anything rather difficult, and wound up missing over half of Tweek's spiel about Craig.

"Alright everyone, you're two hours for group therapy are over. Time to go back to your rooms."

The sound of Stan's voice seems to get everyone's attention, and without a seconds hesitation, every patient in the room stood up and headed toward the door where he and Kevin were waiting. Of course, Butters couldn't help but notice that the only ones who needed to be escorted back to their rooms were himself and Bradley. He thought it was most likely because of the fact they were there on court orders, and decided not waste time asking such an obviously answered question.

The shorter guard then takes Bradley's arm, and after a few minutes of leaving for the others room, Stan does the same.

"So, how was your first group therapy?" Stan casually asks as he leads Butters through the halls.

"It was good, I suppose." Butters answers softly. "Only one person spoke about why they were here, though. But that's okay. Kyle was actually nice enough to give us the rest of the two hours for free time. It let me bond with a fellow patient here - Tweek, I believe. He seems really nice."

"Sounds fun." Stan says; getting a small smile. "And yeah, Kyle's always doing things like that. I personally think that's why so many patients like him"

Butters couldn't help but note the fondness in Stan's tone when he spoke about the redheaded doctor, but before he could call him on it, they turned the corner into the red-squared hallway and, on the other side, saw a security guard. However...this person wasn't Kevin.

If anything, he was the exact opposite.

He was roughly about the height of Stan, give or take an inch, and had a brown head of hair that nearly matched his eyes. The uniform which he wore clung tightly to his plump frame, and the roundness of the others face seemed almost comically exaggerated due to his collared shirt being a few sizes too small for him.

"Hey Eric." Stan greets the man casually. "This is our newest patient, Leopold Butters Stotch. Butters, this is one of the night-shift security guards, Eric Cartman. He'll be one of the ones watching over you guys when me and Kevin go off-duty."

"I see." Butters says softly. He then turns his gaze to Eric before giving a short and arguably bland, "It's very nice to meet you, sir."

Eric, who seemed almost seemed in a state of surprise, snaps himself out of it before giving an impersonal seeming, "Likewise."

The larger male then hurries past, the look in his eyes hinting some sort of underlining distress, and accidentally bumps into the blondes shoulder as he did so. Butters then felt a strange sensation of déjà vu come over him, and...something in the back of his mind whispered that this wasn't new to him.

Like...he knew the other, and had gotten bumped into by him before.

"Huh...strange." Stan comments. "Eric's never been in that much of a hurry at the start of his shift before. I guess he's finally being forced to do that paperwork he was assigned three weeks ago." The taller the realizes he had gotten side-tracked, and quickly continues walking Butters back to his room. "Sorry about that. I have a tendency to distract myself with talking. Bad trait for a guard to have, I know, but I try not to do it that often."

"It's fine, I won't tell." The blonde mumbles; getting caught up in thought.

The two soon reach Butters' room, and Stan ushers him in before closing the door behind him. Of course, the shorter hardly seemed to notice. He was too busy focusing all his energy into trying to remember where he knew the other from. Even as he settled down in his bed for the evening, he didn't give up his task.

He knew he had the answer...but the memory containing it was just out of his grasp.

Eventually, Butters felt his eyes grow heavy, and soon after, finally gave into the call of sleep - his last minutes of consciousness being spent still trying to remember where on gods green earth he knew Eric from.

~Meanwhile~

"This is horrible!"

The yelled words seemed to echo off the walls of the empty room as Eric continued to pace back and forth on the white tiles.

"Why on earth is he here!?" Eric roars out. "How's that even possible?!" The chubby security guard then pauses a moment, taking into account the other hadn't seemed to recall who he was, but continues his paranoid rant after some more thought. "What if he gets his memory back while here?! What if he remembers what I tried to do?! I'd be fucked!"

The brunette then keeps up his pacing back forth for several minutes, his thoughts racing more and more with each step he takes.

It was then that he remembered just how clueless Butters looked when he saw him in the hallway, despite the slight strain to recognize him in his eyes, and the knowledge was enough to get his furious pacing to slowly come to a stop as he thought.

"Maybe...I'm overthinking this". Eric muses; gladly following the direction on his newly rolling train of thought. "I mean...all I have to do is make sure nothing happens to jolt his memory. After all, HE'S the one in this place, not me. It'd be his word against mine, an officer of the law! In fact...maybe I don't have to tackle this alone." A smirk then forms in Eric's face, and without hesitation, began setting his plan in motion - looking through a nearby filing cabinet before pulling out a manila envelope. He then proceeded to slip the document under his arm before venturing into the hallway.

Of course...what Eric didn't realize was that, just out of view, was a certain sea-blue eye'd blonde; listening quietly to every word the other spoke with silent intent.


	3. Visitation Day 1: Tweek

Days seemed to blend in to Butters after his first few days at the institution.

Without a proper way to tell time, mere seconds could seem like hours, and an hour could seem like a century. At first, the blonde was a bit uneased by this lacking sense of time, but as time went on, he was actually getting used to it.

The blonde guess that was just a side effect of the incarceration.

However, despite this loss of time, there was one thing that helped Butters keep partly keep track of the passing days.

It was his daily schedule.

Believe it or not, the rotation of certain activities game him a very thin, but still existing, awareness of the days. On even days - aka: Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday - he'd be sent to talk to Pattie in the mornings before being taken to group therapy in the evening after dinner in his room. As for odd days - aka: Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday - the only time he was out of his room was when he was escorted to his daily therapy session. It wasn't the most...exciting or compelling schedule to be on, but it at least gave him a clear perspective of what day it was.

However, on this particular day, when his schedule only consisted of a therapy session, he suddenly found Stan taking him somewhere in the asylum he hadn't been before.

"So...where are we going?" Butters asks after a moment of traveling in silence.

"The gym." Stan replies without missing a beat. Guessing the blonde would be confused by the statement, which he was, the taller of the two soon continued; "Well...I guess you can't qualify it as a gym. It's more of a room that's situated in the back of the asylum. It's primary use is to give patients here the critical exercise they need. I mean, people just can't stay inactive all day. They need a chance to get up, and stretch their legs., ya know?"

The blonde stays silent for a moment before saying, "Yeah...I-I guess that makes sense."

The raven haired officer then nods, and after a moment of walking, stops Butters at this previously unseen door. With just a twist of the knob, he then swings the door open, and inside; a whole workout area is laid out before the two.

"Alright, this is it." Stan announces. "You have two hours to do as you please, but keep in mind that I will still be keeping watch."

Without another word, the taller then walks over to a corner of the room so as to keep an eye on everyone in said area, and Butters takes the opportunity to really get a good look at the things around the room. All around, there were random pieces of exercise equipment (such as a few weight sets, a treadmill, and ect.), and as for the fellow patients in the room, there were only three: A pale skinned boy with black hair and same-colored unibrow was at one of the weight-lifting stations, a tanned-skinned boy with short brown hair was spotting him, and Bradley was off by himself on a treadmill.

The blonde instantly decides to go over with Bradley.

"Hi Bradley." The blonde greets kindly as he walks over to the dirty-blonde.

The other gave the blonde an almost unsure look, as if contemplating whether or not he should even be associating with the blonde, before whispering out a reply. "Hey….you're name's Butters….right?"

"Yeah." Butters says as his smile grows slightly. "We were in group therapy together."

"Oh….alright."

A few moments then pass in silence, and as the awkwardness keeps getting thicker, the blonde decided to try and make conversation.

"So….I-I can't help but notice one of the barbell stations is open." Butters observes with a shy grin. "If you wanted, I could spot while you lifted. Or the other way around is fine too."

The dirty-blonde stays quiet for a moment, but the shakes his head before saying, "No thanks….I really would rather work out alone." The short of the two swore he saw a blush arise on the others cheeks when he says this, but before he could even point it out, Badley quickly heads off to the other side of the room.

The blonde stands there in confusion for a moment, but once he process what had happened, decides to just head for a treadmill.

Of course...before he even made two steps toward the exercise machine; he finds that the two whom he had seen in the "gym" when he entered looming over him; each with intimidating smirks upon their faces.

"...oh..u-uh….hello." Butters greets politely; trying not to give away how startled he really was.

"Hi." The paled-skinned boy speaks up. "I'm Damien, and this is Christophe." The other then pauses for a second as his devilish smirk grows wider, and continues. "So, we happened to see you talking with Bradley, and neither of us seem to remember your face. You wouldn't happen to be the new guy that got here last week, would you?"

"Um...y-yes sir, I am." Butters stutters out. "W-Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reazon." Christophe says as he gets a smirk of his own. He then strolls over to the blonde before suddenly throwing an arm around his shoulder, and speaking once more. "Now, zince you're 'ere with uz; that meanz you muzt 'ave done zomething pretty bad."

"That's right." Damien adds as he moves to Butters side opposite of where Christophe was. "Why don't you tell us what it was."

"Huh? Tell you?" Butters asks in slight disbelief. The blondes gaze then falls to the floor, actually still very uncomfortable talking about what had gotten him there. "...honestly….I'd rather not talk about it if that's alright…."

The two then suddenly give a unnerving dark chuckle, and the others grip on Butters tightened.

"You don't get eet, do you?" Christophe asks as his malevolent smirk grows wider. He then leans his head closer, and speaks to the blonde in a lower voice; most likely to not draw attention to himself. "We're not geeveeng you a choice. You zee, we don't like azzociating wiz new guys. Ziz plaz eez beeg enough wizout zome new little pruzzy coming along, and crowding up the joint."

"Exactly." Damien adds in the same low voice as Christophe. "Now, either give us a good reaosn to let you live, or I'm afraid you'll find breathing to be quit the tasking job."

The paled skin boy then gives a slight nod to the other, and instantly, the others arm tightens even more. The blonde was now in a full choke-hold, and just as Damien had warned, he found breathing was becoming increasingly harder and harder; his pitiful attempts at trying to squirm free proving to be utterly useless. Butters then briefly wondered why Stan wasn't stepping in by this point, but then it occurred to him that they had their backs turned to him, so from his perspective, it must've just looked they were just talking.

Desperate to get free, Butters then decides that two more people know his darkest secret was a small price to pay for his life.

"I….I'm in here for…..for murder, okay?" Butters chokes out.

The answer must have satisfied the other, because the blonde suddenly felt Christophe's arm loosening from around his neck, and he wasted no time taking in as much sweet oxygen as he could.

"Murder, huh?" Christophe questions as he raises an eyebrow in suspicion. "You don't seem like the murdering type."

Butters gulps deeply at this before saying, "...w-well….I-I did. I…..I murder someone who was close to me…...g-got caught…..a-and….now I'm here."

The pale-skinned male then stares at the other for a moment, but eventually, his lips return to a smirk. He then gestures for Christophe to let him go, and once the other does, Damien suddenly gives him a hearty slap on the back.

"You know...you're alright, newbie." Damien observes as he gives the blonde yet another slap on the back. "You're loud and proud with your crime. Just don't cross us, and there'll be no problems." The shorter of the two then turns to the tanned male before saying, "Come on Christophe. Let's get back to the weights."

The brunet then nods before obediently following the other, and once they were out of earshot, Butters gives a sigh of relief.

For a moment, he was almost certain he was going to die. The feel of the others constricting arm still lingered on his neck...but the sense of just knowing he survived the onslaught was enough to override the slight pain on his throat. Although, it still did nothing for the overwhelming fear that gripped his entire being.

Of course, one thing was for sure...he'd now be horrified of the two, and would make sure to keep enough distance between him and them from now on.

~Later that Day~

"And here we are." Stan announces as he leads Butters though double oak doors. This is the asylum cafeteria, and it's where you'll not only be reporting to for visitation, but it's also where you'll be eating your meals from now on."

Butters then nods in understanding, and scans the area.

Surprisingly, the layout of the room was like an ordinary school cafeteria. There were multiple round tables placed strategically throughout the room, and even some booths were set along the sides of the rooms. As for the people in said room, Butters noted that everyone from his previous group therapy session was there; Bradley with an older male and female (which, presumably, were his parents), Pete with a raven haired man with a patch of green-dyed haired in the back, Bloodrayne with a brown haired man with his haired tied up in a ponytail, and Kenny who was sitting by himself in the corner of the room. A slight sense of worry washed over him when he didn't seem to catch sight of Tweek, but eventually, he saw the crazy-haired blonde waving him over from a table in the back of the room.

Butters smiles happily before quickly crossing the room to where the other was.

"Hey Tweek." Butters greets politely as he sits in the vacant seat next to the twitchy blonde. He then notices the lack of visitors at Tweek's table, so he asks; "Is Craig here yet?"

"Not yet, but he should be soon."

The blonde nods in understanding, and then scans the room to process more about the people surrounding him. All around, patients were chatting happily with their visitors, and a suddenly loneliness crept up on him. Maybe it was the realization that he'd never be able to talk to his mother (as well as his father, since he didn't even know if the other even knew where his son was) ever again that triggered his sadness, or it was possibly the thought that, even if any of his family or friends knew where he was, they'd refuse to see him due to the grisly nature of his crime…

Regardless, he had get his mind off the subject.

"So...a-are the people visiting here today related to the patients?"

Tweek paused for a moment, as if assessing the question, before responding; "No. Bradley's with his parents, but they're the only relatives here today. Parents and other family members don't visit here as often as you'd think."

"I see." Butters says; a slight relief coming over him. "In that case...do you know the relationship of the people visiting?"

"Of course." Tweek replies with pride in his tone. He then looks over to where the others were seated, and soon after, begins whispering to Butters. "Okay, so the boy chatting with Bloodrayne is her boyfriend Larry; that guy from her story last week during Group Therapy. He used to actually come every visitation day, but lately it's been every other visitation day. No clue why though. Oh, and as for the guy with Pete, his name's Mike. Apparently they'd been dating for awhile before developed his condition, and from what I gather, are still planning to be together after this. Mike actually comes to visit Pete every chance he gets, so they might have a shot at making their relationship last."

"Aw...that's sweet." Butters says genuinely happy for the two. It then occurred to the blonde that the two males he'd met earlier in the gym were absent from the event, and an urgent sense to know exactly where they were compelled him to comment on it. "S-Say...where are Damien and Christophe at? Don't they have anyone visiting them?"

The mere mention of the two's names causes Tweek's eyebrow to raise judgmentally.

"You mean those_criminals_on constant lockdown in their cells?" The blonde questions with the upmost distain in his voice. "No, they usually don't have visitors. I'm not even sure if they _have _visitation rights; given how violent and dangerous they can be. Of course, they usually just associate with others who've been sent here on criminal charges, so it's pretty easy to avoid them."

Butters silently let the others words soak in.

Earlier in the gym, when he had encountered the two, he had remembered their hostility toward him. Then, when he was forced to tell them the charges that lead him here...they instantly seemed...friendlier toward him.

Well...as friendly as convicted criminals in a mental institution can be, anyway.

When it happened, the experience meant nothing to Butters, but now….he began to ponder. Did...the two see him as one of them for what he had done? Was he, in their eyes….a criminal? If so, why? He certainly didn't _look_like a criminal, and didn't remember committing the crime he was accused of, but...he _had _confessed to the crime to save his skin. But...what if that wasn't the only reason? Was it possible that this sense of innocence just a delusion his mind conjured up? What if the memories of what he had done were merely hiding from his consciousness only to attack him in the darkest void of his nightmares?

What if...he actually _was_a criminal?

The notion made Butters go into a bit of deep thinking, considering every possibility his brain could fathom, but was pulled out when Tweek suddenly began to wildly tug and pull on his shirt sleeve.

"Oh my gosh, Butter's, he's here." Tweek whispers excitedly.

The blonde knew the other had to be referring to his infamous lover; Craig.

Butters then turns his attention to the direction of the entrance, and expects to see someone walking toward their table. All around, the same people as before were sitting and chatting in their respective areas, but...he saw no newcomers.

Butters couldn't help but feel confusion sweep over him.

"Tweek...am I missing something here?"

"No, you're fine." Tweek answers genuinely. Before anything else can be said, the messy-haired blonde then turns his attention to the empty seat catacorner from him, and a huge smile comes across his features. "Hello Craig! It's wonderful to see you again!" The shorter of the blondes then takes a short pause before continuing, "Oh, this is just Butters. He's new here, and I said it'd be okay if he sat with us. I hope you don't mind." Tweek then takes another pause before giving a slight giggle and saying, "I knew you wouldn't."

Meanwhile, the observing blonde had never been more confused in his life.

"...Tweek...what's going on?"

The shorter then turns his attention to the other before saying, "Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners? Butters, this is my boyfriend, Craig."

The blonde blinks in surprise before asking slowly, "Your...boyfriend?"

"I know; hard to believe, right?" Tweek says with a gleeful grin. "I sometimes wonder how I was able to win the heart of such a great guy. Hehe. Oh, that reminds me; we haven't actually had a chance to see each other in awhile. Would you mind if we just catch up for a bit? We won't if it seems too rude." The blonde then stares at the other for a moment, assessing if he was serious or just playing a joke on him, and gives a nod once he determined that the other wasn't kidding around.

The crazy-haired blonde then happily goes back to 'talking' with Craig, and Butters simply watches him in slight fascination.

It was then that he realized...Tweek truely _did_have something wrong with him. His parents didn't ship him off to this asylum because they didn't want their son liking boys; they sent him there because he was in love with a illusion of his own subconscious.

The realization his Butters like a ton of bricks, but before he could even conceive of thinking of a proper reaction, Tweek speaks to him.

"Butters? Is something wrong?" The crazy-haired blonde asks.

"Huh?" Butters asks as he's pulled from his thoughts. "...um….no. Everything's fine. Why do you ask?"

"Well, it's just...Craig's been asking you a question for five good minutes now, and you haven't answered him."

"...he has?"

"Yeah." Tweek then pauses before asking, "Wait...are you ignoring him? Did he say something that offended you somehow?"

Butters then quickly thinks on his feet for ways to avoid a possible confrontation in this situation before reassuring, "N-No, it's not either of those things! It's just….I-I guess I was too caught up in thought that...I didn't hear him?"

The blonde mentally slapped himself for making the end of his statement sound like a question, and Tweek simply stares at him for a few moments, as if processing something, and eventually speaking once more with a bit of a sour expression on his face.

"...let me guess; you don't see him."

"Huh? I wasn't going to say-"

" Do you?"

"Now Tweek, hold on, let me-"

"_Do you_?!"

"...I….I don't, Tweek." Butters says truthfully with a sad sigh; seeing no better alternative than just coming clean. "There's no one there."

"Yes there _is_!" The messy haired blonde snapped defensively. Butters was caught off guard by this, never having seen the other act this way before, and didn't even had time to form a reply before the other continued his rant. "I-I'm tired of everyone telling me Craig isn't t-there and that I'm insane, b-because I'm not! S-Someone who's that kind and sweet h-has to be real! I know he is!" The others voice cracked slightly near the end of his rant, and his hazel eyes actually began misting with tears.

Butters couldn't help but frown in sympathy for him. "Tweek...I-I'm so sorry to have upset you. I really am. But..I just don't see anyone there."

"I don't w-want your apology!" Tweek sniffles out; rubbing away some tears that had began to fall down his cheeks. "A-And you're just like t-the others! Y-You just want to make me think I've cracked up! I-It's despicable!"

The blonde felt overwhelming guilt at this, honestly not meaning to make the other cry or to make him think he was conspiring against him, but a sudden hand on his shoulder stopped him from making any attempts to console the other. Butters then looks up to find Stan (who most likely witnessed everything that had just happened) staring back at him.

"Butters...I think Tweek needs a little space right now." The taller s

ays in a gentle tone.

Butters doesn't even put up an argument.

The shorter stands, and lets Stan lead him away from a still slightly sobbing Tweek - barely being able to ignore the fact that everyone in the room now had their attention on them. Something inside him still felt terrible for making Tweek break down like he had, but...deep down, he knew there probably wasn't much he could have done to comfort him.

"Is he gonna be okay?" Butters asks once they're out of the messy blondes earshot.

The raven haired male takes a pause before answering, "Yeah, he will be. He usually gets like this when someone points out Craig isn't there."

"Was...was he a real person Tweek knew? Craig, I mean."

"I have no clue." Stan answers honestly. "I guess he could have been...but all I know is that it's who Tweek's obsessed over since he's been here." It was then that the guard stops, and the blonde notices that they had walked over to the table where Kenny had been sitting all alone. "Wait here with Kenny until visitation's over. I'm gonna go inform Pattie that Tweek had a small breakdown, and see if she can't talk him down a bit."

"Yes sir." Butters replies before plopping down in the vacant seat next to Kenny.

The raven haired male then hurries off to go get Pattie, leaving Kevin to keep an eye on things, and the blonde can't help but look back over to Tweek. The other now had his knees huddled up to his chest, and his head was resting in the empty space around the vacant chair next him him; almost as if he was leaning it against a person shoulder.

This only makes Butters feeling of guilt grow stronger.

What if he really scarred Tweek by what he did? What if the blonde was permanently damaged by this? What if...

"It's not your fault, Butters. You didn't know."

The familiar soft voice drew Butters from his thoughts.

He then looked around to see who was addressing him...but there was one around but Kenny. The others sea blue eyes had been looking in the others direction, but quickly looked away once he noticed Butters was actually staring back. Again, the blonde was unsure if it had been Kenny that had been talking, but this time, he decided to take a chance on the probability that it was.

"...Thank you." The blonde whispers.

The other kept staring blankly ahead, but the blonde swore as he did….a small smile spread across his tanned face.

Minutes then pass in silence, and suddenly, Pattie, followed by two nurses - one with long charcoal-black hair and the other with curly blonde hair - enter the room before calmly announcing visitation was over. The guest then gave one final goodbye before exiting the cafeteria, and as soon as the last person has exited, the three women walked up to a still fetal-positioned Tweek.

Butters tried not to listen in on what they were saying...but given the fact they were the only two talking, it was impossible not to.

"Hi Tweek." Pattie greets with a kind smile. "I heard you had a bit of a breakdown. Maybe Wendy and Bebe here could give you a little medication to help you calm down, and we could go to my office and talk about it?"

"N-No!" Tweek stutters out in protest. "T-The last time t-they gave me medicine, C-Craig didn't c-come visit me for t-two whole weeks!"

"Oh, I'm sure Craig 'll understand." Pattie calmly reassures. "I mean, you need medicine to get better, right?"

"T-That's not true!" Tweek counters frantically; his eyes beginning to water slightly. "C-Craig told me their t-type of medicines are bad, a-and gets too upset over it to visit me w-when they make me take them!" Sobs then briefly interrupt the crazy-haired blonde, but soon, he regains enough composure to continue his plea. "P-Please….don't m-make me take t-the medication….d-don't make C-Craig stay away from me…"

The raven-haired doctor gives a sympathetic sigh before saying, "I'm sorry Tweek...but it's for your own good." Pattie then turns to the two waiting nurses before giving instructions. "Give him about a half dosage of his usual antipsychotics. I want him to be calm, but not totally incapacitated. I still need figure out what happened."

The two ladies in white give an understanding nod, and move in on Tweek. It was then that Butters suddenly a hand place itself on his arm.

"Come on Butters, me and Stan are escorting patients back to their rooms for the day." Kevin says in a low, almost whispering voice. "Nobody needs to see something like this."

The blonde nods, and lets Kevin leads him back to his room; doing his best to block out the screams of Tweek's pleas. Of course...it'd prove useless, as he'd hear it far down the hall, and even faintly after the door had locked him into his room.

In fact...it'd be the thing that kept the blonde up all night; even hours after it had stopped.

"And that's what happened."

"Oh, poor Tweek." Kyle says in genuine concern. "Is he okay now though?"

"Yeah, he's talking with Pattie." Stan explains. "You know, for not getting that many emergency calls, she acted very well under pressure."

"That's a relief to hear." Kyle says. "I'm just sad I couldn't get here thirty minutes earlier and help out myself."

"Ah, don't beat yourself up about it." Stan reassures with a slightly dismissive wave of his hand. "Everything's fine now, and no one got hurt. That's the important thing." Kyle then gives a nod of agreement, and was about to add something else when the taller suddenly speaks once more. "Oh! I almost forgot! Those files you asked for on Butters finally came in."

"You're kidding!"

"Nope. Here."

The raven haired guard then produces a sealed, rectangular envelope from his jacket before handing it to the curly-haired redhead. Kyle eagerly takes it, and gives Stan a quant "Thank you!" before quickly opening the seal. He then slips out the contents of said envelope, and begins examining them; his face slowly going from curious to confused as he read.

"...is something wrong?" Stan asks; knowing that the look on Kyle's face meant that something didn't sit right with him.

"Yeah, it's just….some things here don't seem to add up." Kyle explains. "It may be nothing….but I better investigate just to make sure. I'd hate if I overlooked something seemingly insignificant, and it turn out to actually be important."

"Oh, alright then." Stan says while giving a slight shrug. "Just don't work too late, okay? You know you start to get a bit delusional when you don't get your eight hours."

"Don't worry, I won't." Kyle reassures with a smile.

The taller of the two can't help but smile back before giving the other a quick hug goodbye before both males headed their separate ways for the evening; both thinking about their upcoming plans for the evening.


	4. (Update on Chapters)

Hey everyone, and Happy New Years! :D

Okay, so I'm sure a _lot _of your who've been keeping up with this particular story of mine have noticed the vast gasps between chapter updates, and before I go into my explanation, I just want to offer a formal apology for it.

My second order of business is that I want to assure you all that I _am_ still writing this story. It's just that none of the chapters are prewritten like other stories of mine (namely _Dark Harvest_ and _Darkest Dawn_), and this means that I have to write out every chapter between updates; plus some time for breaks and such. Sadly, since I can't exactly be on the computer 24/7 coupled with my easy distraction, this means that said chapters take longer to get done and uploaded than they should. However, I do plan to keep it on a month-to-month basis as far as new chapters are concerned, but if I notice I'm lacking on updates, I'll also be adding little update chapters like this here and there.

Lastly, I want to give a quick thanks to those who've commented on this story so far, and promise that I'll have the next chapter up before next week rolls around.

Anyway, sorry if I got your hopes up with this update, and wish you all a happy and safe new years.


	5. Unexpected Knowledge

"You want to put me on...antidepressants?"

"Oh, it's nothing serious, Butters." Pattie reassures the blonde. "I've just noticed a slight change in your emotional state ever since your...disagreement with Tweek, and I thought that these might be a good idea."

The blonde simply just sighs, and lets his gaze fall to the floor.

It had been roughly about two weeks (give or take, the blonde realized, as he could have easily miscounted the rotations of his schedule) since Tweek had his breakdown in the cafeteria, and ever since, the blonde had been refusing to associate with Butters. Sometimes the other would purposely go to _tremendous _lengths just to avoid the taller all together.

Needless to say, Butters had became more than disheartened after this incident.

"Well, that's todays session." Patty announces once she noticed their time for the day had ran out. "I'll see you back here in one week. You're medicine, however, won't be in till tomorrow, so you'll be starting those then. Let me know how they work out for you, okay?"

"Sure thing." Butters mumbles in reply.

WIth this, the blonde then gets up, and heads for the door. Once there, he saw that the hall was vacant, and a momentary wave of confusion sweeps over him. The blonde then proceeds to stand there in the doorframe for several more minutes, fully expecting a guard to come along and escort him to where he needed to be, but then groans once he realized he had been granted permission to walk from place-to-place in the asylum a few days ago on account of his obedient behavior.

His newfound freedom was clearly going to take some getting used to.

Butters then steps fully into the all, and as if on cue, his stomach started to grumble. It then occurred to the blonde the he hadn't really eaten anything this far in the day, so after changing his direction in the hall, he then headed for the cafeteria - which he was now allowed to eat in also as a part of his cooperation.

Eventually, he gets to the double doors where he had entered through for his visitation, but once he opened it, a wave of regret crashed upon him.

There, sitting at the table right in the middle of the room, was a certain crazy-haired blonde. Butters tried to get in without being noticed by the other, simply to avoid any altercations they could possibly get into, but as soon as the doors closed behind him, Tweek looked up in natural response. They two's gazes met, and for a moment. Butters could read every single emotion the other was experiencing through his expression.

Anger, betrayal, sadness...it was all there; showing clear like picture in Tweek's hazel eyes.

A lump of guilt once again settled in the blonde's stomach, but Butters quickly just shoved it to the side before quickly heading off to pick up his tray.

The lack of a line made obtaining his meal - a hunk of what appeared to be meatloaf, a pile of slightly lumpy mashed potatoes with a few peas to the side, and a small carton of milk - very quick, but once he walked back out into the main eating area, a whole new dilemma arose.

Where was he going to sit?

Obviously Tweek's table was out of the question (The blonde doubt he'd be very welcomed even if he did try to sit there), so Butters quickly looked around for another spot. Surprisingly, there weren't that many other patients in the room, especially considering it was around dinner time anyway, but he found that he just simply didn't know the people already sitting there well enough to just join them - the options being Pete at a table in the far right corner, and Bloodrayne in a booth parallel from Tweek.

The blonde then decides eating alone was the best alternative, but before he could head for any of the vacant tables, a familiar arm slings itself around his shoulder.

"Well, if it isn't Killer." Damien suddenly greets as an unsettling, wispy grin comes across his almost translucently pale face. "We didn't expect you to be here. What's to eat in this joint today? I'm starving."

Butters tries to respond, but finds it very difficult once he catches a glimpse of Christophe standing off to his side; the memory of how the taller almost choked him out still vividly in his mind.

Of course, he didn't want to come across as giving them disrespect, so the poor boy managed to stumble through a response.

"It's...uh….i-it's meatloaf, I-I think...:"

The french male seems to goan at this before saying, "Ugh, the meatloaf here is always so sheety. I'd razar starve zan eat eet."

"Agreed." Damien says. "Let's just go get a seat then."

Christophe nods in agreement, and Damien then releases Butters before walking over to the taller male. However, the two only walked a few steps toward the tables before turning back to where Butters was still standing in surprise.

"Well?" Christophe suddenly asks.

Poor Butters was so confused, but he still didn't wanna come across as rude, especially to someone who had nearly choked him out upon their first meeting, and gulps before stuttering out a reply. "...W-Well what?"

"Aren't you goeeng to seet with us?" Christophe clarifies.

"Yeah, we figured you understood us crooks have to stay together; especially in a place like this." Damien adds. "It'll mess with your head if you don't."

The blonde was speechless.

The very people who threatened to - ney, actually did - hurt him were now offering him a seat at their table like they'd been friends for years. It was to say the least that Butter was beyond confused, and honestly didn't know how to handle himself during this situation. He knew they expected some kind of answer, but...there was no telling _what _they'd do if he gave the wrong one - not to mention if he didn't say anything at all.

A few more moments then pass by in silence, and before long, Damien finally spoke up to break the mounting awkwardness.

"Look, we don't have all day; it's a simple yes or no." The raven-haired male says with obvious impatience. Butters took this as a sign that they truly didn't care about his answer one way or the other, and after quick recollection about how lonely it was eating his meals all alone back in his cell, mentally decides to agree to the offer.

Besides; how much trouble could they cause considering that there were guards watching their every move?

"Um...sure." The blonde finally responds. "I'll sit with you fellers."

"Great. Let's get a table then."

With this, the trio then advances to the tables, and eventually, select a booth just a few spaces away from where Pete was sitting. The blonde then immediately begins eating his meal, deciding to only stick with the mashed potatoes and peas since the meat was so questionable, but a few moments after he began, he couldn't help but notice the two sitting across from him were staring at him as if he were crazy.

"...u-um...is something the matter?" Butters asks; feeling uncomfortable having the two thugs eyes glued to him.

"Yeah there is!" Damien says; causing Butters to jump slightly. The dark-haired male then quickly glances around, as if to make sure no one happened to be listening in on him, and leans in slightly before speaking in a lower tone. "Don't you know you're never supposed to eat the food they serve you?"

Out of all the answers the slightly shorter male could have given; Butters had not been expecting that one.

"Wait...I-I'm not?" Butters asks; a sudden wave of concern rushing over him.

"Of course not!" Christophe jumps in; speaking in the same low voice as Damien had. "Eet ees how zey may you dependent."

"Dependent? On who?" Butters questions; now fully interested in the conversation.

"Oh them; the people who run this place!" Damien clarifies, obviously having a very patient opinion in this subject. "Like I said; this place messes with your head if you're not careful in it. It's perfectly designed to make you reliant on medications and the meals they feed you that, at the end of the day, no one wants to leave. It's kind of like the worlds way of keeping 'crazies' away from those they consider normal."

"But...that can't be true." Butters whispers back to the two. "I mean...if it were; then why are doctors like Kyle and Pattie here trying to get us well enough so we can leave?"

"Zat is just what zey want you to zink." Christophe says. "But in reality, zey are only a part of ze fasade. Zey get you to open up zem, and get you to speell the soul to zem one beet at a teeme. Before you know eet, you're shareeng every leetle zeeng weez zem, and you suddenly catch yourself wondering how you leeved your life before you knew zem. Zat is why me and Damien here stick togezar; so we always 'ave sometheeng to keep us grounded; to have connecteeon weez our real selves."

"Exactly. That's also why we had to treat you as roughly as we did the first time we met." Damien explains. "We can't risk someone outside our mindset to associate with us; lest we run the risk becoming one of the sheep they breed here."

The blonde then blinks at the other accusation, and reflects upon it.

To be honest...what the two were saying _did _make a strange deal of sense, but another part of Butters wanted to cling to the ideological thought that the word wasn't that systematic in its practices. However, there was also a side of the blonde, a side he didn't exactly enjoy thinking with often, that didn't refuse the notion that there was foul play in the workings of the asylum.

"...I….I guess I never thought about that before." Butters eventually admits before looking down a bit. "So...considering if those things are true...how can you stay yourself in here? How can you keep from becoming dependent on them?"

"Oh, all in due time, Killer." Damien reassures with a slight smirk. "You're eyes have just been opened to the truth of this place. If we revealed all of what goes on here to you, it'd be simply overwhelming. Don't worry though; you'll learn everything eventually." The shorter then leans back in his seat before talking in a higher, more casual tone. "In the meantime, however, let us move onto another topic, shall we?"

"_Oui."_ Christophe says with a slight nod of agreement.

The two then begin talking about something vastly unrelated to the previous conversation, and the whole time, Butters just listens silently - occasionally offering his input on something in a quick one to two sentence response. As much as the blonde didn't want to believe it, Christophe and Damien were surprisingly deep individuals, and some of the things they talked about were shocking stimulating.

Of course...it didn't stop the questions that rested in the back of his mind.

Were the people in the asylum really out to just make him a dependant little patient so society would be free of him? If so, how many people who he'd gotten to know during his time at the institute had been converted, and how many of the staff were on a mission of conversion?

The blonde wanted the answers to these questions desperately...but only time would give them to him.

So, in realization of this, Butters just quiets the questions swirling in his mind, and continues being involved in conversation; trying not to let himself wander too much into the thought that everything he thought he knew at this point has been, and plausible was, a lie.

It would prove the only thing that would keep his mind cling to sanity.

_-Later on that Night-_

It was a few hours after dinner.

The blonde had once again settled back into his room for the night, and now the steady rhythm of his breathing while he slept filled the room. However, his slumber would soon be interrupted by the sudden unlocking and opening his door, and with a slight groat, Butters forces his eyes open.

Said person at the door would prove to be one he'd never laid eyes on before in the asylum.

It was a male roughly about his height with fluffy-looking brown hair, matching brown eyes, and a facial structure almost reminded him of Kevin in a way. The blonde then took notice that the man in his doorway wore a guard's uniform, and quickly sat up on his mattress.

"Mmm...can I help you?" Butters asks as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Sorry to disturb you at this hour, Mr. Stotch." The guard says. "But someone has been requesting to see you ever since I came in for my shift."

"Wait...someone's been requesting to see me?" Butters asks; just to make sure he heard the other right. The guard then nods, and the blonde blinks in surprise before rubbing his eyes once more. "Um...sure. Where are they?"

"Right outside." The guard responds. "I'll just let them in to talk to you."

With this, the other then disappears outside, and Butters can hear some talking going on in the hall - followed by more footsteps coming toward his room. Said person then enters his room, and once they enter, the blonde discovers that...it was merely Kenny.

"Oh…Kenny." Butters says before giving a polite smile. "It's nice to see ya."

The blue-eyed blonde then seems to stare at the other for a moment before slowly asking, "So….you...do see me? You're not...pretending?"

"Of course I'm not pretending." Butters reassures the taller; remembering that Tweek had said Kenny believed he was dead for one reason or another.

"Okay...that's good." Kenny says in slight relief. "I just had to make sure you didn't just pretend to see me. A lot of other people seem to do that around here." The taller then pauses momentarily before clearing his throat and speaking once more. "So...anyway, the reason I actually came by was to ask if….you could help me with something. Kyle and Pattie have already left for the evening, and there's no one else who can see me here."

"Well, sure Ken. I'd be glad to help." Butters says "What is it exactly?"

"It's nothing too difficult." Kenny explains. "Kyle asked me if I could take the ornaments off the Christmas tree in the lobby so it could be thrown out a few days ago, I said I would, and...I guess I sort of forgot about it till now. I know it sounds easy...but the job just goes faster with two people doing it instead of one."

"I understand." Butters reassures. "And like I said, I'd be glad to help out."

"Great! Thanks a lot." Kenny says. He then turns to head out of the room, but seems to remember something, and turns right back around. "Oh, we do need to go to this one closet first, though. It's where the box the ornaments go in is."

"Sure thing."

With this, Kenny then turns back to the door, and the two had out into the hall. Butters the notices that the guard from earlier had left, and sudden curiosity over who he was came over him.

"So...who was the guard?" Butters asks as they began walking toward their destination. "The one who got you in my room, I mean.

"Oh, that was just Clyde." Kenny explains with a slightly dismissive wave. "He's the other night guard here aside from Eric. Bit of advice, by the way, always go to him first if you want to request something. Eric will just laugh in your face about it, and deny your request."

"Wow...that seems kind of harsh." Butters observes.

"Eh, he's just douchebag is all." Kenny says. "And he's not here during the day, so unless you have insomnia like me, it's super easy to avoid him."

The blonde nods in understanding, and as in on cue, the two arrived at the hall closet Kenny had mentioned earlier. The taller of the two then quickly turns the knob, and once he opens the door...the two are met with a strange sight.

A red-haired women, curled up in a fetish position, was sobbing in the corner.

Both males were taken by surprise at this, and once the women curled up noticed the two, she was also caught off-guard. The group then stood there in awkward silence, neither side knowing what to do in this situation, but eventually, a pair of footsteps were heard approaching the area. Soon after, a tall African-American man comes into view, and directly goes to the sobbing womens side once he spots her.

"Red! Thank goodness I found you." The man says in clear relief; pulling the women's smaller frame into a hug. "You don't know how worried I was." The tallen then spends a few more minutes in the embrace, and once he releases the other, helps her to her feet. "Come on, let's get you to bed. It's getting late."

The woman nods slightly, and the man quickly escorts her down the hall.

Once they were out of earshot, Butters found himself helplessly confused by what had just happened, and decides to go to Kenny for an explanation.

"What was that about?" The shorter asks.

"Oh, sorry, I guess I forgot to mention it." Kenny explains. "That girl you just saw is named Rachael, though everyone just refers to her as 'Red', sometimes comes to this closet to cry and just be alone for a bit. Something to do with depression….but I honestly don't know all the details. And the man you just saw walking her away was her husband Token Black - aka: the person who runs this whole asylum."

"Wait...he's the owner?" Butters questions.

"Yep. Actually built this place with his wife in mind." Kenny states. "Like I said, I don't know all the details, but apparently it's heavy stuff."

"Huh. Interesting."

"Yeah." Kenny agrees. The taller then remembers their task at hand, and quickly gets himself back on track before saying, "Come on, we better get the ornaments off the tree. The day-guards say they're throwing the thing out tomorrow, so this is our last night to get it done."

The blonde nods in understanding, and the two go into the closet to find the box the decorations were supposed to go in before heading down the hall once more. They then navigate their way through the winding halls, and eventually, they wind up at the main lobby where, low and behold, a tree stood just off to the corner.

"Alright, let's get this done." Kenny announces.

Both then silently get to work, and in mere minutes, the blonde is bothered by the lack of conversation. So, in effort to relieve this feeling and be courteous, he decides to try and make small talk with the other.

"It's kinda sad we have to take down the Christmas decorations." Butters comments as he places an ornament from the tree into the box. "All the pretty ornaments 'n things really brightened up the room, ya know?"

Kenny just merely shrugs at this, and Butters suddenly feels the inner nagging that pestered him when he unknowingly did something wrong rise within him.

Considering what happened with Tweek; the blonde decided to apologize right away.

"I-I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable there." Butters says with genuine remorse. He then pauses before meekly asking; "Do you not like Christmas?"

"It's fine...and, no, not anymore." Kenny explains before continuing, "But..when I was younger, I used to love it." The blonde then trails off for a moment, as if reminiscing of something pleasant in times past, and the smallest of smiles comes onto his features before speaking once more. "I remember that...my whole family and I enjoyed celebrating the holiday when I was still just a kid. Sure, we didn't exactly have that much money, but we still had each other." The taller of the two then pauses momentarily, and then lets out a small chuckle before speaking once more. "In fact, one of the fondest memories of the season is that, every year on the morning of Christmas Day, my little sister, Karen, would barge right into my room and shake me till I was awake; all so she could drag me to the living room to see the gifts Santa had brought us in the night. Granted, none of the gifts were ever that extravagant...but just to see her so excited and filled with joy was all the gift I needed."

"It sounds like you really love your sibling, Kenny." Butters observes; a smile coming onto his face like it had Kennys. "Karen's lucky to have an older brother like you."

The slight rustling of getting out decorations suddenly stops, and Butters turns his head toward Kenny to see what was the matter. The smile that the blue-eyed blonde had was now gone, and a slightly quivering frown had replaced it. His eyes, which had now frozen over with his signature look of indifference, began misting with tears, and his shoulder slumped; almost as if newly invisible weight were no longer allowing them to be help up.

Concern sweeps over Butters, but before the shorter of the wo can speak up, Kenny speaks in a cracking voice.

"No Butters...I-I'm not a good brother. Karen...she...she deserved so much better than me…"

"Now, don't say that." Butters says calmingly; moving in a bit closer to the male in front of him. He then gives Kenny a warm grin before saying, "I'm certain you're a perfectly a fine brother."

"I'm not, Butters!" Kenny snaps. The sudden change in voice volume makes Butters cringe slightly, but keeps in his place closer to Kenny. The other, realizing how unintentionally harsh his words came out, reigns in his emotions before speaking again. "I...I'm just not, okay? Big brothers are supposed to help you when you have problem…..be there for you to help out with anything, and….and I failed to do that when Karen needed me most…"

The blonde now had a concerned look, and he moved even closer to the male in front of him.

"Ken…what do you mean?" Butters asks in the gentlest tone he can convey. "If...if there's something you want to tell me, please feel free to do so. I promise I won't tell anyone."

The taller of the two then looks down at the floor; staying quiet for what seemed like a good thirty minutes before speaking. "It was five years ago when it happened. My brother, Kevin, was seventeen, and he had just gotten license after..._several _failed attempts. He was so excited that he finally passed, and all he wanted to do was take me and our little sister for a drive around town in our parents beat-up truck they said he could borrow for the occasion; despite the clear rule that no one else could be in the car with a new driver for at least a couple months. Naturally, it being the middle of December, I didn't exactly think it sounded like a good idea...but he eventually wore me down, and before I knew what had happened, we were in the car in the middle of what seemed like a blizzard…"

"_Kevin, you need to slow down!"_

"_Y-Yeah...m-maybe this wasn't such a good idea." Karen joins in with Kenny as she continued to cling to his side._

"_Aw, come on guys, lighten up, won't ya?" Kevin asks a bit teasingly from the front seat; glancing in his mirror to look at his two siblings in the back. "I'm just goin' the speed limit; I've got this under control. Just sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride, alright?" _

_Kenny just gives his older brother a stern look, and tightens his grip on the smaller figure already huddled to his side. It was obvious that the both of them were uneased to even be near a car with the weather like it is, although to the others credit it had been only slightly snowing when they had set off on this journey, and Kevin's recklessness wasn't helping the situation. The two tried to give their elder brother the benefit of the doubt, considering the possibility that maybe he could navigate the vehicle, but the last straw for Kenny came when Kevin turned a corner too fast - causing the tires to come off the snowy road a good two inches before going back to the concrete below._

"_Alright, that's it!" Kenny speaks up in an authoritative tone. "Kevin, turn this car around, and take us home before someone gets hurt!"_

"_Okay, okay, I'll turn around at the next driveway." Kevin says with a bit of annoyance. "Jeez you're a buzzkill, Ken."_

_The younger of the two simply ignored the others comment, and focuses on keeping Karen calm during the rest of the ride. The poor girl was shivering in fear, and her grip on her brother was so tight the older wouldn't be surprised if later he'd have to get a crowbar to get her off. Kenny then gently puts a hand on the younger dirty brown hair, and begins to stroke it in a calming manner._

"_Don't worry Karen...I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." Kenny whispers reassuringly. This seems to help ease the young girls nerves slightly, but her tension flared right back up again when the truck made an unsettling jerk to the right. The blonde glares at his brother for this, and can't help but say something. "Kevin, what are you doing?! I thought you said we were going home!"_

"_We are, we are!" Kevin says in a bit of a dismissive tone. "It's just hard to tell what's what in this much snow…"_

_The comment seemed to strike a raw nerve with the blonde, and before he could stop himself, Kenny hisses out, "Well, we wouldn't be out in this storm if you hadn't insisted we go on this stupid and meaningless drive with you!"_

"_Hey, no need for the nasty tone." Kevin says with slight sass in his own voice. "And this drive isn't useless. It's in celebration of me getting a license."_

"_Oh, like __**that **__means anything!" Kenny counters; more venom coming into his voice the more he spoke. "People get their drivers license every day, but you don't see __**them**_ _doing something as stupid as going out for a drive in the middle of __**fucking**_ _December when weather like this is common!"_

"_Language!" Kevin snaps; whipping his head around to glare at Kenny in the back. _

_The blonde was about to yell at Kevin to watch the road when, up ahead, faints lights could be seen. Kenny's heart nearly stopped beating for a whole five seconds, praying for it to be mirage, but found it to be all too real. The younger quickly snapped out of his shock, but by the time the warning to his brother reached his lips...it was already too late._

_The truck collided head-on with the other vehicle._

"It was just….so fucking sudden." Kenny says; wincing slightly as the vivid memory of the moments before the crash played before him in his mind. "There was nothing I could do to prevent it. I later learned that my brother had accidentally drifted to the other side of the road and had just lucked out till then...but I don't really blame _him _anymore. I...mostly blame myself for letting us get in the car in the first place…." The blue-eyed blonde then trails off slightly at the end of his sentence, but eventually shakes his head and brings himself back into reality. "Anyway, like I said, there was nothing I could do to stop it. So, seconds before the crash, I grabbed my little sister, and just wrapped myself around her. I figured….if she at least had some kind of protection….maybe she'd survive."

"Did it work?" Butters asks in almost breathless anticipation; clinging to every word Kenny was saying. "Did she make it?"

The taller of the two then closes his eyes, as if preparing himself for what was to come next, before continuing. "The crash was the last thing I remember from that night. Everything just slamming into each other, and then nothing. I'm guessing I must have been hit on the head or something, because the next time I opened my eyes, I was laying in a hospital bed…"

"_Kenny? Kenny, can you hear us?"_

_A slight groan of pain comes from the blonde, and shortly after, blue eyes began opening to the world. _

_At first everything seemed a fuzzy, things around him being nothing more than out of focus blurs, but eventually, everything came into focus. Kenny quickly put together that the bed he was laying one from the emergency room, and standing around him was his mother, father, and a woman in a white jacket he presumed was the doctor._

"_...m-mom? Dad?" Kenny asks; still slightly dazed._

_The people around the bed seemed to have a momentary shock of surprise, but then all were sent into happy relief; the blonde's parents even tearing up with joy._

"_Oh Kenny! Thank goodness you're awake!" His mother says; wiping away the tears that had began to fall down her cheeks. "The doctors were sayin' you may wake up! That...That you'd be in a coma for the rest of your life!"_

"_H-Huh?" Kenny asks in confusion. "I was….I-I was in a coma?"_

"_That's right." The doctor says as she takes a step closer to the bed. "You were in a car wreck with your siblings back in December; nearly over three months ago."_

"_T...Three months?" Kenny asks; not having believed it if he hadn't just been told so. _

_The doctor nods in confirmation before saying; "Yes. Luckily, from what we can tell at least, you escaped the crash with no permanent injuries or damage. You did have a few broken bones and three cracked ribs, however, but nothing some physical therapy and some rest can't help. Now, I'm sure this is all very overwhelming for you, so if you have any questions about anything, feel free to ask."_

_The blonde sat there in silence for a moment; processing all of what he'd been told._

_He was still having a hard time trying to catch up on what happened, from crash to him being in a coma, but pretty soon, something else caught his attention. The beds beside him held strangers, and after a moment, he then turns to the doctor and his parents before asking the question that caused smiles to be frowns once more._

"_Where...where are my brother and sister? Why aren't they in here with me?"_

_The doctor then hurriedly looked the blondes parents, as if trying to a signal whether to proceed or not, and after getting a headshake from his father, she then turns back to Kenny; her intent on being the changing of the subject._

"_Um….Kenny, maybe we should save this for another time." The doctor gently suggests. "After all, there is a lot we need to-"_

"_Where are my brother and sister?" Kenny repeats the question; cutting off the doctor before she could finish her thought._

"_Kenny, I understand your concern, but-"_

"_**Where**_ _are my brother and sister?" _

_The doctor guess by the firmness of the boys tone that he'd not be giving this up soon, and with a bit of a sigh, she begins explaining. "Kenny...I'm afraid your brother and sister have...left this world"_

_Kenny's eyes widened at the news, and meanwhile, his parents did their best to hold in her sobs for the sake of her still living child._

_His heart suddenly felt as if it had been reduced to mere shreds, and the room suddenly felt as if it were spinning; the only things being steady were the faces of his parents and the doctor. In his mind, every piece of information was trying to sort itself out. First the coma, and now his siblings meeting their end in the car crash he survived._

_Somehow...it all just didn't seem well._

"_...m-my….my brother and sister are….dead?" Kenny asks slowly; the information still being hard for him to process at the moment._

"_I'm afraid so." The doctor responds truthfully. "They had both passed in the wreck."_

"_But….but how is that possible?!" Kenny asks; his pitch's tone rising dramatically as his heart-rate began climbing as well. "Kevin I can understand, but…..but I had wrapped Karen in my arms before the crash! How...how could she be dead?!"_

"_Kenny, please try to calm down." The doctor says in an almost pleading tone. "Too much strain in your current state is a very bad thing. Now, we don't have all the details of the crash, but I assure we did everything to save her. Some things just...can't be prevented."_

_Of course, no matter what the other had said, the blonde would still continue to reel._

_Things just weren't making sense to him. His brother, he knew, had every right to die, considering his vast history of recklessness and general ignorance, but...his little sister was sweet and kind; a shining glow of innocence in his otherwise corrupt and perverse world. Kenny knew she hadn't deserved what had happened to her, and what boggled his mind even more was...how could the powers that be let such an injustice occur? _

_Was it fate? Was the crash just something that couldn't be prevented? And if so...why couldn't it have been his life that was taken and his sister be the spared?_

_The blonde stewed and stewed on this issue, trying to use reason to get a logical answer, until finally, one came to him like a rush of lighting. _

_At first, even he was skeptical about what his mind had concocted, but he quickly deduced that there could be no other possible solution. The blonde then looks in the direction of the three adults - all of which had looks of vast concern on their face - and stared at them for a good few minutes before his lips finally conveyed his message._

"_I….I didn't survive the crash." _

_The tone may have been low, but the words certainly didn't go unnoticed by the listeners._

"_...excuse me?" The blondes father asks. "Kenny, I'm sure I misheard ya, 'cause it sounded like you said you hadn't lived through the crash."_

"_No, no….that has to be it, I…I didn't survive the crash." Kenny repeats; more to let it sink into his own mind than to inform the elders. "I understand now. I...I died in the crash just like Karen and Kevin, but...but somehow I'm being kept here." _

"_Kenny, don't say things like that." Mrs. McCormick pleads. "You did survive, and you're here with us. Safe and sound."_

"_No...I'm not." Kenny firmly responds. "My spiritual being may be here….but my physical body is buried somewhere six feet below the earth….headed with a tombstone that has my name. Right in the middle of the ones that read "Kevin McCormick" and "Karen McCormick". That is where my rightful place is...where I should be...where a part of me is..."_

_These words unsettled the boys parents, and they both looked to the doctor for an answer._

"_Don't worry Mr. and Mrs. McCormick; this kind of thing is to be expected." The doctor reassures the two as she walks them off to the sidelines. "Kenny's psyche must not be able to cope with the fact he survived the collision and his siblings hadn't. I'm sure in a month or two he'll come to terms with what happened, and that kind of talk will be a thing of the past."_

"_Well….alright then." The blondes mother says; still sounding uneasy. "Just...please help my little boy. I...I don't think I can handle loosin' him too…"_

"_Don't worry; we'll get him through this." The doctor reassures._

_Meanwhile, Kenny, who was silently listening to the entire conversation they thought he couldn't hear, just sighs heavily before closing his eyes. He knew there was nothing they could do for him now. _

_After all; dead was dead, and no amount of 'help' from doctors was going to fix that. _

"I guess I should've known they wouldn't believe me." Kenny concludes with the slightest of scoffs. "But do you see? I'm not a good brother...I couldn't even save my little sister from meeting the same fate as her brothers...she probably won't even want to see me once I reach the afterlife…."

Meanwhile, Butters was now looking at Kenny with a sudden realization.

It was much like the one he had gotten with Tweek when he discovered the blondes lover was only an illusion of said boys mind. Granted, the stress of having two siblings, one younger than you at that, die in a tragedy you happened to survive would probably have sent anyone into a delusional state so their conscious wouldn't have to carry the heavy burden of guilt.

It was because of this, and the fact Butters didn't want to screw up his potential friendship with Kenny like had with Tweek, that the blonde decided to play along.

"Ken...I'm sure once you and your sister are reunited...she'll be the happiest she's ever been because she has you back."

Kenny can't help but smallest of smiles at the others response before saying, "Thank you Butters...that makes me feel a bit better."

"It's no trouble." Butters says. He then takes the few remaining ornaments off the tree before casually asking, "So what happened next? After you woke up, I mean."

"Eh, nothing special." Kenny says a bit dismissively as he closes up the box of colorful glass balls and tinsel; not to be opened again till next December. "They spent two whole years trying to 'heal' me at that place; sending me to numerous therapists and grief counselors, but finally after all that time, they got the message what they were doing wasn't working. So, they phoned up my parents, and brought them in for this meeting with my main grief counselor…"

"_W-What do you mean the treatments are working?"_

"_I'm sorry Mrs. McCormick, but I'm afraid __Cotard Delusion - the belief you're dead - is a very serious affliction__." Kenny's main grievance counselor explained to the boys parents. "You're son's been growing increasingly isolated, and the therapists here can't seem to break through that. I'm sorry to say that we just simply don't have the tools to properly help him here."_

"_Well...isn't there anything else we could do then? Maybe a specialist on this kind of thing or a self-help group?" Mr. McCormick asks; sounding just as desperate for an answer as his wife._

_The counselor took a moments pause before slowly saying, "Hm...you know, I do actually know of a place. It just came here about a month ago, I believe." The man then reached into his desk, rummaging around one of the drawers for a moment, before taking out a flying and handing it over to the McCormicks. "It's called, "The South Park Institute for Mental Health". Like I had mentioned, it's relatively new, but they could provide more of what your son needs right now than we could."_

"_An...an asylum?" Mrs. McCormick asks with some surprise. "You...you really think a place like this could help my son?"_

"_I'm afraid there's not much else." The counselor answers honestly. "Hospital rules state that once we've done all we can to help a patient, which we've done, they must be discharged from our facility - effective immediately. Although, if you're not comfortable with going to the institute, you could always try taking him home and see if a normal routine will bring him back. It should be stated, however, that….we rarely see this method end successfully."_

_The two then look to each other, as if trying to reach a consensus, and after a moment of hushed debate, they turned back to the counselor._

"_...How much would...sending our son to this place be?" Mr. McCormick asks. _

_Seeing their interest, the counselor then begins explaining the various payment plans they could go on, and as the parents listened, Kenny was once again listening silently; this time from the hall instead of the bed. He then sighs once again, and closes his eyes. He wanted to rush in there, to tell them not to get into deeper debt than they already were….but he knew it would just be in vain._

_After all, who would, or could for that matter, listen to what a ghost had to say?_

So eventually, they came out, and I had to listen silently as they told me all of what I already overheard them talking about." Kenny says as him and Butters were sitting on the box of packed-up Christmas ornaments. "That very next morning, the hospital discharged me, and I was driven straight here by my parents. I was then checked in, and now, here I am. Stuck among the living, and no closer to reaching the other side."

"Kenny...that's terrible." Butters says in genuine sympathy. "I'm so sorry things couldn't have worked out better for you."

"It's fine…really..." Kenny whispers out; his voice trailing off at the end.

The blonde had a rush of insecurity, for a moment thinking the other was closing himself off because of something he'd said to him, but it fades when he remembers how emotionally unstable Kenny must still be. So, the shorter of the two just stayed quiet as they picked up the box, and continues his silence as they walk it to the closet they were in earlier.

It wasn't until they sat the wooden box down than Kenny would speak again.

"So...I guess we're done; considering the guards are the ones who throw out the tree." Kenny observes. Butters then nod, and the taller rubs the back of his neck before adding; "Hey...um...thanks for listening to me earlier. It...means a lot to me that you did that."

"Hey, anytime buddy." Butters says; flashing a smile in both contempt and relief.

It was then that the taller flashed a smile back at Butters, a smile wider than what he'd normally give, and...the blonde suddenly felt his heart give an out-of-rhythm beat in his chest. A hot blush was then felt spreading across his pale, freckled-dusted cheeks, and to force it back, Butters falsely clearing his throat.

"U-Um...it's...gettin' pretty late." Butters points out once he notices the dark sky from a nearby window. "We should probably be goin' back to our rooms."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea." Kenny agrees. He then begins to walk toward the door, but stops for a moment once he was in the doorway. After a second, his head then turns back to the other, and his voice can be heard speaking once more. "Hey….Butters?"

"Huh?" The blonde asks; still a bit flustered from earlier.

"...You may want to watch out for Eric." Kenny says. "I heard him ranting and raving in his office awhile back, and I'm pretty sure you were the subject of it. Figured I'd give you a heads up. I don't wanna see you get hurt." With this, the blue-eyed blonde then looks forward, and walks completely out of the room. Meanwhile, Butters was just standing in silence.

What did Kenny exactly mean? Why would Eric be ranting about him? And...why had his heart beat like wild drum when the other had smiled?

Many questions were now on Butters mind...but the blonde quickly accepted he probably wouldn't get the answers to them in the near future; actually deciding to push said thoughts out of his mind as he re-entered his room before settling down in his bed for the night.

And surprisingly...that night would prove to be the most restful sleep he had gotten at the asylum thus far.

_-Meanwhile, A few hours earlier-_

"South Park Police Department."

"Yes, hello." Kyle responds as soon as the voice on the other line finishes speaking. "My name is Dr. Kyle Broflovski down at the Institute for Mental Health. I'm actually calling about a report you faxed over on one of our patients; a mister Leopold Butters Stotch."

"Really?" The officer on the other end asks. "What seems to be the problem with it?"

"Nothing, nothing, but...something on it doesn't seem to add up." Kyle explains. "You see, on this report; I noticed that it said the body found at the scene had some evidence of stab wound, but Butters specifically told me a baseball bat was the weapon he was found with. I know it's probably nothing...but it just seems like the two weapons in questions would be easy not to mistake for each other. Is it possible for detectives or someone to possible look into this, and review the evidence again? "

The person on the other line the gives a slight "Hm.." before speaking once again.

"Well, I'm honestly just the reception here. Unfortunately, all available units are deployed at the moment, but I suppose if you call in tomorrow with a formal request; I'm sure the detectives here will review the case."

"Really? Thank you so much!" Kyle says in clear relief. "I'll call back first thing tomorrow then!"

The redhead then exchanges quick and partially informal "Goodbye" with the officer before hanging up the phone entirely. Of course, as soon as he did, a strange feeling came over him.

It was a sense which alerted him that...someone may be watching him.

Said feeling did cause Kyle to be on the defensive for a few moments, his green eyes scanning every knook and cranny of the room, but relaxes once he realizes he's all alone. The redhead then quickly gathers up the files on Butters he had brought in with him before heading out the door to go home.

Of course...what Kyle would never realize was that someone _was_ watching him; plotting the doctors downfall as he got closer and closer to the truth behind Butters incarceration.


	6. Group Therapy: Session 2

"So wait, you told the old man that?"

"No, no, it was ze feesherman." Christophe explains as he does his best not to break out into laughter. "So when I say zat, ze guy asks why I was at ze pier in ze first place, and I say weeth a straight face, 'Because sir, my lawyer screwed me over een court.'"

The trio then bursts into laughter, and didn't even seem to mind the strange looks fellow patients in the cafeteria were giving them.

"That was hilarious, Christophe." Damien says once he regained enough composure to speak without laughing.

"Yeah, it really was." Butter chimed in with a slight chuckle.

Christophe then explains he had another story that they were going to find even more hilarious than the one he told, and as he began talking, the blonde can't help but note how accepted he felt in that moment.

Sure, things hadn't gotten off to the greatest of starts between the three, but that was far behind them. In fact, Butters was willing to argue that he felt a stronger sense of comradery with Damien and Christophe than he had with anyone in his life. Granted, under different circumstances, the three would more than likely never even think about associating with one another...but they were know, and to blonde, that was enough to earn his trust.

"Say, killer, you have that group therapy thing later today, right?"

The sudden question pulls Butters out of his thoughts, and he finishes chewing the bit of food he had in his mouth and swallows before answering.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Butters replies; still a little uncomfortable with Damien's nickname for him, but keeping it to himself. "I have it every other day, actually. Why do you ask?"

"Eh, no particular reason." Damien says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Just being curious is all."

"Oh. Okay then." Butters says; not giving the sudden question another thought.

The three then go about talking and laughing at one another's stories as they normally would...but little did Butters know, the two across from him were in the midst of planning something huge right under his nose.

-Later, During Group Therapy-

"Alright everyone, time to settle down." Kyle announces as he takes his usual seat in the middle of the circle of the usual group people. The conversations around the room instantly die down, and the redhead clears his throat slightly before continuing. "Now, like every meeting, I'm going to need someone to start us off. Any volunteers?"

As usual, the room stayed quiet, but after a moments hesitation...a pale, unexpected hand did go up in the air.

"Tweek?" Kyle asks, wanting to make sure it wasn't just a misunderstanding. The blonde then gives a slight nod of confirmation, and the redhead continues. "Well, this is a pleasant surprise. Please Tweek, by all means, feel free to share with us whenever you're ready."

The blonde then stays silent for a moment, as if regretting having volunteered, but nevertheless, began talking.

"It was about five years back, when I was seventeen, when I started seeing Craig." The blond explains, a small smile coming onto his lips at the memory. "I actually remember the first day we met. It had been a fairly busy day at my family's coffee shop, and I'd taken a break after a particularly impatient bunch of customers came through to calm myself down…"

"_Can't you go any faster?!"_

"_This is the worst customer service I've had in years!"_

"_That isn't what I ordered! Can't you do anything right?!"_

_Tweek sighs heavily at the memory of the shouting voices before taking a long sip of the hazelnut coffee he had poured for himself to try and stop his shaking._

_It wasn't often customers shook him up...but good lord, had they today._

_No matter what he did, no matter how hard he tried to rectify whatever he messed up, the complaints just wouldn't stop. It had messed with his nerves so much so that he went on break the second all of those impatient customers had been given their coffee. Now it was almost time for him to return to his post, and nothing could have made him more anxious._

_The blonde dreading the thought of going back to work after what he endured, and wished that something, anything would happen to make the day a little less gloomy._

"_Excuse me?"_

_The unexpected voice causes the shaky blonde to snap out of his thoughts with a slight jump of surprise, and when he looks up, he sees a tall, slender boy about his age with black hair almost fully hidden under a blue chulu hat, black jeans, and dark blue hoodie that seemed to be a nearly identical color of his eyes._

"_...um...are you...talking to me?" Tweek asks a bit cautiously, keeping wary of the stranger._

"_Yeah, I am." The other replies in a dry tone. "I was wondering if I could sit in that empty seat. All the other spots to sit are taken."_

_Tweek blinks at this statement. "Wait...they are?" The blonde then quickly looks away from the person in front of him to scan the area, and just as the taller had said, all the chairs they had in the cafe had been occupied. "Huh. I guess they are. But, u-um...sure, you can sit here. M-My break's gonna be over soon anyway."_

"_Cool."_

_The boy then pulls out the chair just across from Tweek, and casually plops himself down in it before pulling out a cell phone from him pocket. As the other becomes immersed in texting, Tweek sits there in the awkward silence; not really used to having random strangers sit with him like this. Then again, the cafe had never been so full not a single table was left open, so the shorter of the two figured there was a time and place for everything._

_What seemed like an eternity passed this way, the surrounding conversations drowning out the tic-tacing of strangers texting, but out of no where, the other speaks._

"_...Hey, I'm sorry about how those people were treating you back there."_

"_H-Huh?" Tweek asks, surprised by the others sudden words._

_The blonde then sees the tallers blue eyes looking up from the phone in his hands at him. A look of subtle, genuine sympathy was held within them in light of the others earlier treatment. Tweek felt his heart give a few fast-paced beats, but managed to steady it as the strangers eyes shifted themselves back to his phone's screen._

"_I just said I was sorry for how those other customers were acting." The male explains as his thumbs were set back into motion. "They should be damned grateful not to be kicked out considering how unreasonable they were being."_

_Tweek was speechless._

_No one had ever taken his side before, and...just the feeling of being in the right for once was enough to make a wide smile spread across his face._

"_Tweek! Your break's over!"_

_The sudden voice of his father caused the blond to jump a bit in surprise, but after realizing who it was and what they wanted, he quickly calmed down._

"_Okay. I'll be there in a second." Tweek calls out. He then looks back to a still pre-occupied Craig before beginning to speak once more. "Um...so, I have to go back to work. Thank you for what you said, by the way. It means a lot more than you'd think."_

"_Anytime." The other nonchalantly says. _

_The blond then starts to walk back over to the counter to start serving customers once again, but before he gets there, he hears the other yell out to him._

"_Hey, I almost forgot; my name's Craig by the way."_

"After that, he sort of became a regular customer, and always had a habit of showing up when it was my shift." Tweek explains. "I-I know it's not much of a story, but I never really did have much excitement in my life."

"No, no, it's fine." Kyle reassures. "All stories are valid here, Tweek." The redhead then takes a short pause before continuing, "Although, I would like to hear a bit more of the time after you and Craig got together. Or, I suppose more specifically, what about it made your parents seek help for you. Would you be comfortable sharing this?

The shorter of the two blinks, and after a moment of consideration, nods his head.

"Yeah. I can do that." Tweek reassures. It starts out slowly, but in no time, the crazy-haired was telling his tale. "Well, to be honest, me and Craig never started officially dating until two whole years after we first met. W-We were both just so hesitant and nervous to actually make the first move, and once we finally did start dating, neither one of us was that enthused about letting our parents in on it. I-I'll never forget the night we actually told them..."

"_Are you sure we have to do this tonight?"_

"_Trust me Tweek, the sooner the better." Craig says as they stroll up hand in hand to Tweek's front door._

_Anxiety nipped at Tweek's very stomach, and the only thing his panicked mind could manage to say in response was; "W-Why do we have to tell my parents first again?"_

"_Because Tweek, my folks are gonna be a tough nut to crack." The taller explains. "With them, we're gonna need all the help we can get, and having your mom and dad there to help us explain it to them will do wonders. And even if they don't accept us, we'll still be together, and still have love for one another. There's nothing on earth that can change that."_

_The blonde considers this, and after a moment, sighs in submission._

"_A-Alright then. Wait here though, I-I wanna tell them first before they meet you."_

"_Sure thing." Craig says. "I'll be right here. Good luck."_

_With a bit of newfound confidence, the blonde then takes a deep breath before walking into his parents home. Inside, he sees his mother doing a crossword from the paper while his father read the sports section, and neither seemed to notice he had entered until he purposely cleared his throat._

"_Oh, hello Tweek." His mother says, keeping her eyes glued to the cross-word. "It's such a nice surprise having you come over."_

"_Mom...Dad...I have something very important I need to tell you." Tweek states in the most serious tone he can. This is thankfully enough to get them to actually look up from their activities, and once the blonde sees their listening, continues. "For the past several months, I have been...seeing someone, and it's getting pretty serious."_

"_Oh?" His father asks. "Well, we're certainly excited to meet her then."_

"_That's just it." Tweek says. "She…isn't a she."_

_The two stare at their son in silence for a few minutes, and inwardly, a hurricane of worry and anxiety was raging inside the blonde._

"_So, you're dating a boy?" His mother finally asks, breaking the silence._

"_Y-Yes. I am."_

_More silence follows, but soon, Tweek's father speaks up. "Is he here with you?"_

_The blonde nods before quietly explaining he was waiting on the porch. His parents then both glance to each other before getting up, and heading to the front door. The shorter of the three follows, and soon, sees his parents standing face-to-face with his boyfriend._

"_Hi." Craig politely says. "It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Tweek."_

_Tweek anxiously waited for his parents reaction, but all he saw was them staring. What seemed like an eternity passed with no one saying anything, but eventually, the two slowly turn to their son._

"_Sweet-heart, there isn't anyone here." Tweek's mother explains._

"_What?" Tweek asks. He then glaces to Craig, who looked just as confused as he felt, and then back to his parents. "But...he's right there. You were looking right at him."_

"_No there's not, son." Tweek's father says firmly. "Now, I don't know if this is some sort of prank or whatever, but you shouldn't just go around saying what you had."_

"_Wait, sir, I get the knowledge that your son is dating someone of the same sex might be a bit of big news, but you can't just ig-" Craig began to say. But before he could finish his thought, his father pushes the door; it closing right in the others face._

"_Dad!" Tweek nearly shrieks, tears forming in his eyes. "Don't just shut him out!" The two adults get matching expressions of confusion, and the blonde decides to continue. "If you don't want to accept our relationship, fine, but you owe it to me to at least give him a chance!"_

_The recurring silence creeps back in, and after a minute, Tweek's father speaks up._

"_Son...you truly believe there's someone out there, don't you?" He asks._

"_I don't think, I know!" Tweek clarifies._

_His parents then give each other a knowing glance, and then turn to back to their son with what was almost a look of pity._

"_We feared this day would come." His father explains solemnly. "Your Grandfather and Grandmother both suffered from mental illness, and we were warned you may be prone to develop it later in life. We should have been prepared."_

"_Mental illness…?" Tweek asks softly._

"_Yes sweetie, mental illness." His mother says. "Now, get up to bed. We're going to have to get an early start tomorrow."_

"_Why?"_

"_Because we're going to have to go to Denver." His father states. "That's where the psychiatrist who diagnosed your Grandpa and Grandma is. If anyone, he should know what measures need to be taken."_

"After that, it's pretty much cut and dry." Tweek explains. "We went to the psychiatrist the next day, he "evaluated" me, and said it was best I be committed somewhere as soon as possible. But, since they couldn't afford to put me in any of the facilities in Denver, we came back here, and had to settle for this place. And now, here I am. Locked up, and separated from Craig aside from a few times a month...just like my parents wanted."

Around the room, no one spoke.

Tweek wasn't to normally share, and on top of the surprise of that, he had gone into a pretty fair amount of detail about his history. If anything, everyone was just in shock that he had opened up so willingly.

"Thank you, Tweek." Kyle says. "It was very courageous of you to share with us."

Meanwhile, Butters felt the all-too familiar knot of guilt tie itself in his stomach.

Poor Tweek truly swore by the statement that Craig was real, and genuinely felt hurt when people told him he wasn't. The blonde just hated knowing he had hurt someone he knew so deeply, and decided actions must be taken.

Things needed to be set right.

So, once Kyle went off to do his paperwork as he normally did when people started talking, Butters slowly made his way to the shorter. He then took a seat next to Tweek, and at first, The crazy-haired blonde refused to acknowledge his presence. The taller then went over what he could possibly say to make things right, and after a moment, begins talking.

"That was...some story Tweek." Butters says; truly not knowing any other way to describe what he had heard.

"Thanks." The crazy-haired blonde replies dismissively.

Butters can't help but bite his lower lip at this, and tries to think of something, anything, to say that maybe would make this forced conversation starter feel less awkward. It then occurred to him that he never did give Tweek a proper apology for what he'd said, and seeing as how things were currently going, the taller of the two went for it.

"Tweek….look, I truly am sorry for all those horrible things I said." The blonde explains. "Your story today made me realize just how wrong I was to have said them."

The other sat silent for a moment, but after about two minutes, finally spoke. "Well….I suppose you didn't exactly intend to hurt my feelings like that. And to be honest, the more I think about it, the more I'm sure I over reacted to the whole situation." Tweek then slowly turns his head, and a smile spreads across his lips once his green eyes meet Butter's blue ones. "I guess we're both just hot messes, huh?"

"Yeah." Butters playfully agrees.

The two then gradually began to talk more, and inside, Butters feels like a heavy burden has just been lifted from his shoulders.

In all honesty, he had never really ticked someone off to the point of them going out of there way to avoid him before. So, to have this forgiveness, talking to a person who despised him just an hour ago like there hadn't been a fight at all, was simply intoxicating. However, as it would seem, it was not destined to last long.

"I will admit, it is nice to have someone I can trust to talk to again." Tweek says.

"Agreed." Butters replies with a slight nod of his head. "Plus, you, me, Christophe, and Damien can all sit at lunch together."

The blonde expected Tweek to be enthused by this...but instead, just seemed concerned.

"...Christoph and Damien?" Tweek asks after a bit of pause; as if reassuring that is what the other had said. "But...those two are criminals."

"Maybe, but we're all in here for something." Butters reminds; taking slight offense at how the crazy-haired blonde was referring to his friends. "They're really nice and funny once you get to know them. Besides, it's not like they're gonna try to hurt us. There _are_ guards keeping watch on them whenever they're out of their cells, remember?"

The blonde only looks down at this before mutter under his breath, "Craig says they're dangerous, and I've never known him to be wrong before."

Butters catches this comment, and feels a certain level of offense by it.

He couldn't explain why...but he didn't think it was fair that Tweek was making assumptions of the two before even really getting to know them. So, without a single hesitation, decides to say the first thing that came to his mind.

"Well, then Craig is wrong."

The words that left the others mouth were met with an almost stunned silence from the crazy-haired blonde. In fact, the shorters expression was an arguable mix of shock and anger mixed in with disbelief.

"Excuse me?" Tweek asks in a low, almost venomous tone.

"I said Craig was wrong." Butters repeats. "Christophe and Damien may be a bit rough around the edges, but it's not all cut and dry. They're still people, just like you or me." The taller of the two then pauses for a brief second, and with surprising gusto, makes another bold statement. "But of course, you're just so petrified of what trouble the world could bring that you fail to see the world around you, and just focus on the delusion you've created for yourself."

"_Delusion?_" Tweek asks; knowing what Butters had meant, but not saying it outloud as a sort of signal for the other not to utter it either.

Of course, it had the opposite effect on the blond.

How the other was acting was actually fueling his desire to vocalize him opinion. The way Tweek was acting caused any and all sympathy toward his situation to be drained, and without even really thinking, starts speaking. "Craig is _you_, Tweek. When you say 'He thinks that' or 'He says this', that's just your inner view of the situation being personified through him. He _isn't_ real."

"How _dare_ you!" Tweek says through clenched teeth.

The taller just shakes his head at this, and stand up; intent on finding another seat to sit in. Of course, before he could even get one step away, Tweek suddenly grabs ahold of his arm.

"No, you're not walking away after saying something like that!" Tweek hisses. "Craig is real, and I'll be damned if I let you go around saying he isn't!"

A slight pain settled in Butters arm where Tweek was clutching onto his arm, but he wasn't about to let on that it hurt. The blonde then begins to wriggle his arm in an attempt to get it free, but the other was clinging too tightly for that to work. The taller then decides enough is enough, and with all the force he had, shoves himself against Tweek. This actually causes the other to stagger back a few steps, but the second the shorter regained his footing...Butter knew he had made a mistake.

The others brown eyes were filled with anger, and before he could even make an attempt to say anything in his defense, Tweek lurches forward.

In seconds, Butters found the others fists crashing themselves against his face in a heated fury, and he was knocked to the floor. The crazy-haired blonde continues his relentless hits, and all around, the other inmates in the room watched the scene in shock. The taller tried defending himself, but the other was throwing punches too rapidly for him to block.

The onslaught only continued for minute or two after it began, and soon, Stan and Kevin rush in to check out what the commotion was.

The guards themselves were actually taken by surprise at the sight of Tweek hitting Butters, but quickly shake it off. They then rush over, and grab ahold of the crazy-haired blondes hands before dragging him away from Butters. Of course, Tweek wasn't intent on going quietly, and struggled the entire time.

"LET ME GO!" Tweek screeches as he violently thrashes against the guards hold.

Butters then slowly props himself up, and just stares ahead in the third distance in silence. Eventually, Kyle comes up to him, snapping the other out of his thoughts, and offers a hand. The blonde gladly takes it, and once he was on his feet, the redhead begins talking.

"Butters, are you alright?" The therapist asks.

The pain of the others punches begins to slowly process in the blonde's mind, and he realized a steady stream of blood was coming from his nose; along with a sudden stinging pain.

"I..I think he broke my nose." Butters replies; his voice coming out slightly nasled.

"Don't worry, we'll get you to the nurse right away." Kyle assures. He then tells the other inmates to remain calm and seated before walking Butters out the hall. From down it, Tweek could still be heard screech to be let go, and the blonde suddenly has a flashback to the day the other had to be dragged out of the cafeteria.

He just couldn't stop pushing this guy to the limit, could he?

-Later, at the Nurses Office-

"Luckily it was just a fracture, so there should be no permanent damage to your nose. Oh, and here; this ice will help the swelling on your cheek go down."

"Thank you." Butters says as he holds the baggie of ice Wendy handed him to the now stinging and lumped part of his face.

"Anytime." Wendy says with a kind smile as she begins putting up the bandages and gauze. "I'm just surprised it was Tweek that did this to you. The guy's been here for awhile, and he always seemed so sweet and shy to me."

"That's what I thought at first too." Butters says.

Of course, inwardly, the blonde admits the whole ordeal was all because he had to go firing off his mouth. And as he continued to think about it, a knot of guilt began to tie itself in his stomach. After all, Tweek had been a relatively close friend at one point, and the knowledge he had so openly torn into his friend nipped and ground at his mind.

However, his thoughts were interrupted when the nearby door swings open, and looks to see Damien and Christophe entering.

"Hey killer." Damien greets. "We heard you were in a fight with that freak during group therapy, and wanted to see how it went." The shorter of the two then gets a good look at Butters scratched and bruised face, and lets out a slight whistle. "Yikes. They said that blonde weirdo got a few good hits in, but it looks like he really let you have it."

"What on earth deed you say to peess 'eem off so bad, anyway?" Christophe asks.

Butters hesitates for a moment, and then speaks in a soft voice; "You know...it's not important. I really don't wanna talk about it, to be honest."

"That's fine." Damien reassures. "We had other matters to discuss with you anyway." This causes a look of confused interest to come across the blonde's face, and after giving a quick look to make sure Wendy was too busy putting up supplies to really be paying close attention, the raven-haired male begins whispering. "Okay, so you remember that question I asked you this morning, right? Well, it wasn't just me being curious. You see, me and Christophe here have been doing calculations, right? Well, believe it or not, we think we've come up with a fool-proof plan to get out of this joint."

"Wait...you mean to es-" Butters began to ask in his regular tone, but once he realizes Wendy was still nearby, switches to a whisper as well. "You mean to escape?"

"Oui." Christophe says. "Eet has taken us months to perfect, and we are now certain that there ees no way it could fail."

"But...I don't understand." Butters confesses. "Why are you telling me all this? I figured I was still too new to be trusted."

"No, no, you're one of us." Damien clarifies. "You're not like the other insane people here. We can tell you have some sense. And besides, if this plan works, all three of us will be free men by the end of the week." The shorter sees that the blonde still looks unsure, and gives a sigh. "Look, I know it's sudden, but you need to trust us. I mean, do you _really_ want to spend the rest of your life cooped up here with these bat-shit crazies?"

Butters almost couldn't believe what he had been told.

True, he had known of Damien and Christophe's vast hatred of being locked up in the institution, but he never once thought they'd _actually _devise an escape plan. And in the event they had made an escape plan, why on earth would they go to _him_ for assistance? Surely there had to be another person more qualified than him for the job. But on the other hand, the thought of being free, and able to make decisions for himself once again was almost enough for the blonde to jump on board with the plan, and buckle up for the ride to come.

Almost, but not enough to subdue his rational thinking.

"You know, this isn't exactly the safest place to discuss things." Christophe says, prying Butters away from his thoughts. "Just give our offer some thought, and tell us your answer at breakfast or during our time in the gym tomorrow."

With that, the two then promptly exit, and leave Butters gives another heavy sigh.

His mind was so full with events from the day, and amongst everything, the blonde was certain on only one thing:

It was going to be a _long_ night of thinking.

-Meanwhile, a few hours later-

"What do you think happened back there?"

"I'm not sure, but whatever it was, it sure got Tweek upset." Stan explains. "He was struggling like a raging bull when we were taking him to his room, but luckily, we got him there without anyone else getting hurt."

"I'm glad to hear so." Kyle says with a small smile. "I always worry about you when an inmate gets out of control like that...but I know you can handle it. And I'm sure once Tweek has a whole night to calm down, he'll stop being violent. I mean, he shared with the group for the first time today, so surely he's going to be open enough to tell me what went on." The taller of the two nods in agreement, and the redhead suddenly remembers something. "Oh! That reminds me! I got in touch with the police today, and they agreed to assign a detective to review the case. I didn't get any contact information or anything, but they said I'd get a call if evidence were to appear."

"That's wonderful!" Stan says with a smile. "I'm sure they can find the answers you're looking for. And who knows, maybe they'll find something before the end of the week."

"I can only hope." Kyle replies, giving the slightest of sighs.

The two then spend a few more minutes chatting and catching up before wrapping up their conversations, and walking out to their cars.

Of course, back inside, Eric had been eavesdropping on the two just around the corner.

He had heard every word that was exchanged, and now that the two had departed, decided now was the perfect time for some damage control.

The heavy-set security guard then creeps down the hall to Kyle's office, and with a quick check to make sure no one was around, quietly slips inside. Once there, he then makes his way over to the doctors' desk, and begins going through the contents spread out on its surface. Eventually, he comes across the files the police had faxed over, and gives it a hurried looking over before tucking it away in his jacket.

"Now, to call off those detectives." Eric says to himself before giving a sly grin.

The security guard then reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his phone before punching in numbers. It then begins ringing, and in minutes, someone was on the other line.

"South Park Police Department, what is the nature of your emergency?"

"Hello. This is security officer Eric Cartman down at the Institute." Eric explains. "I'm actually calling on behalf of one of our therapists, Dr. Broflovski, who has been contact with you earlier today. He has informed me to tell you that there is no longer a need for the investigation, and apologies for any inconveniences this has caused."

"Is that so?" The person on the other line asks. There was then a short pause, as if they were writing what the other had said down, before speaking again. "And you're certain that he wants this investigation called off?"

"I am." Eric answers without any hesitation.

"Well then, I'll notify the detectives assigned to the case right away." The person says. "Thanks for telling us this so promptly."

"No, no, friend," Eric says; a wicked smirk curling on his lips. "Thank _you_."


	7. The Countdown Begins

"Please, don't shut us out, Tweek."

"I promise we can help." Kyle adds in a reassuring tone. "You just need to tell us your side of what went on, and we'll diminish the twenty-four hour lockdown. Doesn't that sound better than being cooped up in your room all day?"

The blonde remains silent.

His eyes were firmly fixed on the ground as he refused to look at the two psychologists in front of him. Resentment and anger were still fresh in his mind over what happened earlier, and as what Butters told him echoed through his thoughts, a chilling conclusion that he may truly be alone in this world began to form.

Meanwhile, Pattie and Kyle were still attempting to break through to the other.

"If you're afraid of getting in trouble, there's no need to be." Pattie says. "We've gotten word that Butters was provoking you, and if this is indeed true, then he'll-"

"I want to go back to my cell." Tweek interjects.

Both psychologists were surprised by the others sudden words, but Pattie was the first to process it. "Well...okay, but before you do, maybe we could-"

"Perhaps I wasn't clear." Tweek says through gritted teeth. "I want to go back to my cell, and I want to go back now. I don't care about the twenty-four hour lockup! All I want is some time to be alone, and that's it!"

The two glanced questioningly at one another before diverting their gaze back to Tweek.

"Very well then. Me and Kyle will notify Kevin right away, and he'll escort you back."

The blonde hardly notices the doctor's words, and after one final glance, both head for the exit. The door soon swings shut behind them, and Tweek takes this opportunity to look up from the floor.

The cheerful colors of Kyle's office seemed almost plain to the observing patient, and all the while, a strong sense of guilt was beginning to take hold. He truly hadn't meant to be so passive and snappish with the psychiatrists, since the two had genuinely seemed concerned with his mental health, but at the same time, it simply couldn't be helped.

What Butters said really stuck with Tweek, and anger began clouding his sense of judgment.

They all just viewed him as some insane, unstable nut-job who was so pathetic and socially awkward that he had to make up his own boyfriend because no living person in the right mind would ever be with him otherwise. Sure, the knowledge was nothing new the blonde, but with Butters, he at least felt some form of acceptance. Believe that, for maybe a moment, there'd finally be someone there to back him up when he said Craig was real.

That feeling was now no more than the shattered remains of a sweet dream that morphed into a waking nightmare.

However, despite the blow it caused him, Butters actions did help Tweek to come to a very important realization: In this world, the only one he could fully trust, heart and soul, was Craig. After all, the dark-haired male had been there when he needed a shoulder to cry on, and most importantly, the only one of his so-called "friends" to keep in-contact and regularly visit him since he was committed into the institution. Sure, there were the people like his parents and psychologists that doubted their relationship, each claiming Craig to be "nonexistent" as Butters had, but as the blonde quickly learned, he should no longer listen.

After all, it was them who doubted Craig's existence.

Tweek knew that they were the ones who were wrong. And in the silence of that room, the blonde mentally vowed that, no matter what the risk, he'd rise above the hell he'd come to know as the institution so as to finally find true happiness with his dark-haired lover - no matter what the cost.

-Meanwhile-

"O-Ow! That stings!"

"I'm sorry." Wendy says with genuine sympathy. "I should have warned it was still going to hurt. But on the bright side, your nose is healing just fine"

Butters then lets out a weak sniffle before saying, "That's good."

"It is." The doctor agrees. "And you won't have to worry about that pain for long; I've actually called you in some low-dosage painkillers for it."

"Thank you so much." Butters says with a smile.

"No problem." Wendy reassures as she re-ties her sloppily done ponytail. "I'm afraid you can't leave yet, though. My assitant still needs to return from the psychologist's office, and get confirmation that the medicine we're going to give you aren't going to be affecting any of your current medication."

Butters was about to correct her, to say he wasn't on any medication, but then the memory of his visit to Pattie's office stopped him.

It was weird being on antidepressants for the blonde.

They just came in a small, round pill at each of his meals, and left behind a foul taste if he didn't swig enough drink to wash it all the way down his throat. There was a noticeable decrease in anxiety, Butters noted, but it did nothing for the guilt he felt. It didn't stop the knowledge that he pushed a docile person such as Tweek to violence, or the fact that nothing he could ever say would make his actions justifiable.

"Sorry that took so long."

The sudden sound of a voice that had followed an opening door made the blond finally snap out of his pity party, and sees a nurse with long, curly blonde entering the room. And, as she came closer, he spotted a nametag on her lime-green scrubs that read "Bebe".

"I ran into Clyde in the hallway, and we got to talking." Bebe explains as a light tint of red brushed across her cheeks. "I know he's a bit of a womanizer, but his flirting is just so adorable sometimes! Like today, he had complimented me on-" The curly-haired blonde then stops when she notices her coworker giving her an impatient glare. The other then clears her throat before continuing, "Uh...but that's not relevant, I guess. Anyway, I spoke with Kyle, and he said Butters medication shouldn't be affected by the low-dosage pain killer you wanted to prescribe him."

"Good." Wendy says, followed by a relieved sigh. She then turns her attention back to the other blond before speaking once more. "Alright Butters, you're free to go. I have to warn you though, Kyle may call you to his office later for a bit of questioning, but in the meantime, the cafeteria is still serving lunch if you're hungry."

This instantly caught the blondes attention, and, after the words left the doctor's mouth, a small growl of hunger came from his stomach.

"I am actually pretty hungry." Butters comments with a small smile. "Thank you for telling me."

Wendy just gives a slight nod of acknowledgement, and the blond takes this opportunity to leave. Once outside, he then quickly navigated through the halls, and in just a few minutes, found himself in front of the cafeteria doors.

However, the blond couldn't help but notice something strange.

All the other patients seemed to be intentionally avoiding eye contact with him as he went to get his tray, and even turned their backs to him when he came out of the line. Butters was momentarily confused by this, but decides it's not that big of a deal before taking a seat at an empty table. Conversation then flutters around him, and a feeling of loneliness begins to creep in.

That it, of course, until a certain curly-haired dirty-blonde walks in.

"Hiya, Bradley." Butters calls out the other. The other then looks over nervously, and the blonde gives a kind smile before continuing. "So, um...I couldn't help but notice the people you usually sit with aren't here right now. Instead, maybe you could...sit with me? That way we could keep each other company."

The other seemed almost startled by this offer. He then bit down nervously on the tip of his thumb before casting uneasy glances around the room - as if he was making sure no one was watching - before slowly approaching Butters table.

"I-I'm sorry, Butters...but I can't." Bradley mumbles out, keeping his gaze to the floor. "People have been saying that...y-you're really bad news; ever since what happened with Tweek. I-I just can't risk losing control again by being around a bad influence…"

"Bad influence…?" Butters asks in a bit in confusion. He then shakes his head before continuing, "Look, Bradley, that whole thing was just a huge misunderstanding. What happened with Tweek was...unfortunate, yes, but I promise I didn't intend to make him freak out like that! You have to take my word on this!"

"I-I...I don't want to lose myself again..." Bradley says shakily. "I-I'm sorry, Butters…"

Without another word, the taller of the two then quickly heads to the cafeterias exit, and even when he had gone through the doors, the blond stares blankly in the direction the other had left in.

Butters was utterly dumbfounded by what just happened.

Not only had he learned why the others had been avoiding eye-contact with him, but also that they truly resented him for what he'd done to Tweek. This level of animosity aimed towards him was new and terrifying to the blonde, and as he sat there, occasionally poking and nibbling at his food, one thing became clear.

Things were changing in the Institution, and there was no way to stop it.

-Later That Day During the Scheduled Exercise Block-

"And now everyone's cross with me...but I guess it's what I deserve..."

"Bullshit." Christophe interjects with an offended scoff. "Ze guy was obviously bat-shit crazy. It was only a matter of time before he snapped on someone; you were just ze one zat was on ze business end of it."

"He's right, ya now." Damien joins in as he lifts the weights in his hands over his head. "The souls of the damned are often overly sensitive. It's nothing you should concern yourself with."

Butters couldn't help but slight confused by the others wording, but shakes it off before giving a short sigh. "Regardless, I still feel awful about what happened with Tweek. He was just...such a normal seeming guy when I first met him."

"Yeah, normal." Damien comments sarcastically while rolling his eyes. "Ya know, if that guy was your definition of average, I'd hate to see what you think is strange."

Christophe gives a chuckle at this observation, and Butters couldn't help but get a small smile from it as well. After all, the blonde figured, every patient in the Institution was there for one reason or another. Tweek was obviously no exception to this, and while what Butters said set him off, it wasn't what had originally lead him to be sent here.

"By ze way, Butters, I needed to ask you somezing." Christophe says after helping Damien off the bench press. The two then make their way over to where the blonde is, and after checking to make sure the guard wasn't entirely focused on them, the brunette begins to speak. "Our plan to escape is about to be put into motion. All that's left is for the supplies to get to us. You're still going to help us escape, oui?"

The other was caught off guard by this.

"Oh...um...look, I..." Butters attempts, but can't find the correct words. In all honesty, he had been partly convinced that what the two had been talking about was a joke, but yet, they were still bringing it up.

"Is something wrong?" Damien asks as the other continues to struggle for words.

"I just...don't think it's wise for us to be joking about stuff like that." Butters finally explains. "A guard could hear us, and we could get in serious trouble."

Silence fell upon the group.

"We're being completely serious, Butters." Damien clarifies after a moment. "Me and Christophe both agree this institution is beneath us. Geniuses aren't meant to be confined behind bars with people who barely understand our mentality. We should be out spreading knowledge to the masses; not taking orders from some lowly guards!"

"He is right." Christophe chimes in. "And I have personally had enough of your stalling. Ze time to answer is now.. Eizer you're going to help us escape, or you aren't."

Butters bit his bottom lip at this.

The sudden cause for decision flared his anxiety. After all, the three were sent there through court orders, and what they were considering was breaking the law. However, the thought of being free and having a clean slate enticed him to no end.

"...I...I suppose I'm...not saying no." Butters finally answers.

The two raise an eyebrow in curiosity at this.

"So you're saying you want in?" Christophe asks.

Butters gives only a moment of second thought before slowly giving his answer.

"I...I just wanna know what I'd be getting into if I agree." Butters clarifies. "I don't exactly agree with breaking the law, but...I at least wanna hear you two out."

The two seem to get matching smiles, and quickly look to see that the guard overseeing them wasn't paying attention before huddling together.

"Alright, so here's ze plan:" Christophe begins in a low whisper. "I've been keeping track of ze guard rotation schedule for a week, and have discovered zat for a whole half hour, from five-zirty to six, one of the two guards take zeir lunch. Zis means if somezing were to "accidentally" happen, such as a fire, ze one here would be so busy scrambling to get zat under control, one could easily slip past to freedom."

"Wait...so you're going to burn something?" Butters asks in slight confusion.

"Not just any something." Damien states with a proud smirk. "We've spent days scouting for the perfect room to torch, and it's been decided that Kyle's office is the best option."

Butters swore he felt his breathing stop for a whole minute at this.

"I see zat look, Butters." Christophe suddenly comments before Butters could say anything. "It has to be Kyle's office because it's the farthest room from the entrance. Zat way, if the flames spread faster zan expected, we'll still have our way to escape."

"But...won't he get hurt?"

"Kyle?" Damien asks. "No. We weren't planning to burn him, just his office. We found he goes out to lunch with Stan every Thursday for an hour, so as long as it happens within that window of time, neither of them will even know about the fire until notified."

Butters blinks at this, "Oh...I...I guess that alright then."

"So you're definitely helping?" Damien asks, out of place enthusiasm in his tone.

"Yeah...I am." Butters reassures with a nod. "But I serious; no one is getting hurt. Okay?"

"Of course, of course." Christophe says with a dismissive wave. "Just meet us at Kyle's door during your lunch in two days, and we'll take care of the rest."

The blonde nods, and the three resume normal gym activities. At the end of their session, the all went their separate ways, and were escorted back to their rooms. However, even as Butters and Damien settled in for the night; Christophe was up and waiting preparing; a plan kept secret from both his "friends" overtaking his thoughts.

-Later that evening, with Christophe-

"And you're sure he's going to go through with it?"

"Of course he is." Christophe says before rolling his eyes. "It's not like I'm an amateurs at zis. I've got Damien convinced we need Butters for our escape, and as for Butters...well, let's just say everyone shunning him practically did my job for me."

"Well, at least you didn't screw that up." Eric mumbles under his breath before letting out a heavy sigh. "Alright, so the only thing left to do now is wait till for our little plan to tumble into action. And, as long as no slip-ups occur, my future will be secured within two days."

Christophe narrows his eyes challengingly at this. "And where exactly does my reward fit into zis plan of yours, you American swine?"

"Hey, watch it, asshole." Eric hisses back threateningly before continuing in a slightly calmer tone. "And don't get your dick in a twist, I didn't forget about our agreement. You and your boy-toy will be getting your precious freedom soon enough; it's all about patients at this point."

Christophe seemed pleased, but not completely pacified by this response.

"Damien is just a good friend." The Frenchman clarifies. "And just how soon is soon? I'm growing rather annoyed by zis entire place, and refuse to wait for my promised freedom much longer."

"I get you wanna get out, but I can't really give you any solid dates yet." Eric answers with clear annoyance in his tone. "There's been a snag. We've been given orders from Token to amp up security ever since the whole Tweek incident, and I can't risk any suspicious behavior. Just know it'll be sometime within the next three or four weeks. That's the best I can do at the moment."

The brown haired male looked visibly displeased about this development.

It was clear he'd rather have what he was promised sooner, but after taking a moment to really think about the position him and Damien were in, it became apparent there weren't any other options for him to choose from.

"Fine." Christophe says with a clearly bitter undertone. "I will continue waiting. But before I just stay quiet, I must know one thing. Why is getting that blonde wimp framed so important to you? He's practically the definition of harmless."

"I don't believe that's any of your business."

"I suppose." Christophe nonchalantly begin. "But it's a rule of mine to know ze intentions of my employers. Good, bad, it doesn't matter. Ze bullshit has to be cut, and I need ze real reason I'm spending my time on zis job. And since you say it's almost done, I thinks it's more zan fair I get told, in a manner of speaking, ze con behind ze con."

"And let me guess; if I don't tell you, you'll rat me out to someone like Stan or Kyle, right?" Eric asks with a small, almost amused smile on his face.

Christophe gives a shrug. "It would be nozing personal, but yes." The taller of the two then takes a moment's pause before continuing, "Maybe because of how shady you're acting, I'll also tell zem you framed Butters, and are ze reason he wound up in zis nuthouse in ze first place."

This comment causes Eric's amused smile to fade.

"You would stoop that low." Eric says in a suddenly serious tone. He then lets out a heavy, annoyed sigh before continuing. "Fine. Since you just have to know, I'll tell. Just know that nothing we say here leaves this room."

"Of course."

Eric then takes a moment's pause, as if considering the best place to start, and then begins telling his tale. "Firstly, it wasn't me who had killed Butters mom, and I have no idea who it could have been. Besides, I had only spoken to her once or twice in the time I knew her, and had nothing against the women."

"But I take it you know Butters family?" Christophe questions with a raised eyebrow.

"Most of them, yeah." Eric explains. "Me and Butters had been roommates in college up in Denver during our first three years. And, being the stupid college kids we were, both of us had our fair of trouble. I mean we were involved in some really crazy shit."

"Do anything illegal?" Christophe asks with mild interest.

"Occasionally." Eric responds. sounding uncharacteristically cautious. "But I'm not about to tell you any of them. I believe you have the information you wanted, yes?"

The other remained silent for several minutes before answering; "For now."

"Good."

Sensing that there was no more business to cover, Christophe stands before silently exiting the room. Eric, however, stays at his desk, and once the other was fully out of view, opens the top drawer on his desk. Inside laid a day planner that was flipped to a calendar. All of the days previous had been crossed out with a red X, and just two spaces ahead, the box was circled in red ink titled simply as "The Big Day". Seeing he was so close success, Eric allows a curled smile to come across his features, and even begins whispering to himself.

"This whole thing is almost surreal. I've literally been planning this whole thing since that fateful day you ran out on me. I bet you even thought you were a safe...and now, here we are. Just forty-eight hours from you getting the thick dose of karma that you deserve."

The other then lets out a low, taunting chuckle before slowing closing the drawer once more.

* * *

_A/N: Hello everyone! I just wanted to apologize for the long wait on this chapter and for what I'm about to announce. As much as I hate to say it, this story is going on an official hiatus so I can get the remaining chapters finished and get them up faster than the month-to-month thing I'm doing now. I really don't have a date I can give that tells when I think this pause will end, but I promise this story won't get forgotten. Also, thank you all so much for your comments, and I hope I can make this hiatus relatively short for you all. :3_


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